If I Could Only Focus My Will
By Oscar S. Cisneros
If I could only focus my will.
I'd make the ravages of feeling form crystalline portraits of fear and hate, love and hope.
I'd make the feelings I feel vibrate the very molecules of air into light. Light and sound...
But what sound? Ephemeral twinklings on a moonlit night -- the gay musings of shepherd boys?
What of the lion's roar? Or some strange rumble from the guttural madness of the earth? What sound would issue forth if I could only focus my will?
I see a world where my passion is a force.
I see shattering glass and lightning split the sky.
I see violent upheavals of energy wildly streaming forth amid rising oceans and mountains, mountains groaning under their own weight.
But then I think I am vain. Too lost in the powerlust of a man, too focused on my own will... or lack thereof.
Then I am spent. Washed up on the beach after a storm of my own making. Tired and drifting. Wishing for a creation-myth to call my own. And hearing, distantly, the calls of shepherd boys and a feint rumble in the sky.
