It is a thud
That precedes a void,
perhaps silent,
perhaps empty.
Beyond the realm of quantification,
beyond the definition of a moment.
Detached from the senses,
and its languages.
Perhaps it was the cosmic darkness,
that filled the gap left by an event too nimble for the
notion of time.
Senses overwhelm as he comes out of this void
What happened?
What’s happening?
What to do?
The questions churn around in his head,
at a singular moment before he lands to the asphalt-paved road.
“Head, head, head,”
He recalls telling himself as he descends to the ground,
tangled in the cross-bar of his bike.
The doctor in him has planted itself deep,
later he tells of this reflex action.
The thud knocks him down to the ground.
Its gallantry is no joke.
Days and weeks follow,
that attest to the mightiness of the thud.
Roaring from afar,
in unassailable commands,
the thud orders:
Dependence
Uncertainty
Fears
Helplessness
Pain
Restlessness
To which he bows in solemn obedience.
Try, it might,
to lull the world in the reverberations of its sound,
but the thud meets a more powerful resistance.
That of:
Kindness
Love
Selfless care
Of
Family, friends, colleagues and complete strangers.
Almost overwhelming.
Indebting
To be paid by comparable terms or heaps of guilt.
The soulless, mighty thud has no lessons to learn.
It has no mechanics to learn lessons.
This leaves the witness,
He,
to mop up the floor.
To be so deeply grateful to how much goodness exists in this
world,
To be again indebted to the kindness and love people are
capable of pouring out.
