Knothole

     Life seemed a lost thing when standing at the knothole. People

 passing behind me, nattering, scuffling, pale grey nothings while I 

 gazed through that hole into nowhere. Every minute of life that 

 was mine, had been spent before I'd been born. All I've had to call 

 my own was ten minutes a day and a hole in the wall, and I

 savored every second.

     

The world beyond is guarded by light. It is every single thing 

we've  taken from ourselves. Breathing green, my eyelids receive a

 benediction. A blessing / geas to return the next day, pray for

 rain, for green things, for spring. This place is our own, we haven't

 tamed it, we have broken it, and now it's light's died and ashes

 remain. Those who protect the true places, give small truths and  

 we starve for the smell of more. Yet we daren't bite the hand. One 

 day they may let us in.