The Cave.

through the cave deep inside me
an endless river runs
untouched by moon or sun
it had never stopped, nor had it begun

until the great stone came
and blocked the mouth of the cave
so I dove down inside myself
deep, past the continental shelf

the pressure made me ache
the cold water bit my bones
was it a mistake
to descend here all alone?

I longed for the loving sun
to shine its heat overhead
but I had gone down too deep
to daydream of summer’s sweet sleep

I raced forward to reach the boulder
I scratched and clawed to take a hold
but it’s bulk wouldn’t budge or obey
despite its size, it managed to evade me

my vision blurred, thoughts ravaged my mind:
if I tear up while submerged, have I still cried?
can death in a nightmare steal your real life?
and who placed this awful stone here?

amidst my floundering philosophical flourishes
I realized, though I was so discouraged,
that I was not dying, I was fully nourished
as the current washed away my need to be nervous

and I saw clearly who had placed the stone
in the way of the water’s course
it was I who disrupted my own pure flow
I had done myself this disservice

as I rode liberation’s wave wave
the stream ebbed and flowed through
the boulder did break with a mighty quake
and just at that moment, I did wake…

© Rylan Skelly, September 2018

About the Author: I have a B.A. in Honours Religious Studies from the University of Waterloo and I love all major world religions – Eastern, Western, or in between. I’m genderqueer, and I’m comfortable with male, neutral, and female pronouns. I’m married to my dear wife Lynn, who is the love of my life, my best friend, and my muse. I think far too much, and often have too many ideas to know what to do with. And I am a doing being, just like you!


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