Dialogue I
Moments earlier, our conversation
opened a world
doorways passing selves
unimagined shifting landscapes
can I tell you
about my neurology appointment
the gravity of my body
forces at odds
beneath my skin
we were wrong
it wasn’t a pinched nerve
discoveries
dipped in dark ink
dissolving certainties
I am
a solar system fragmenting
liquid dreams
words boxed
scattering
you sat
silently for the longest time
tangled pieces shifting ground
if we untether – will we be free
or out of control?
I’m an open-minded person
I love travelling
even though I’ve hardly been anywhere
but travel is such a beautiful thing
to talk about
well, I used to think so
now I look at unfamiliar landscapes
I’m meant to want
but since they told me I’m ill
the unboundedness of travelling
being taken so far forward
in this whirring body
who would I be when I got there?
Isn’t that terrifying?
constellating memories
words not my own
interpretation watery
decorating stone along my border
when you think of a life with Parkinson’s
is it a river of moments headed to the sea?
travel can have such a nice feel
especially if by water
like the time we took the ferry
bubbling white above blue
when you hear the word “Parkinson’s”
do you question how dark the night could be?
we reached an island’s edge
weightless
waves at shoreline
ministering sounds
when you see the mask of Parkinson’s in the mirror
can you find the familiar face?
we watched a fellow traveller disembark
passed down steps
toted across a watery vault
many hands passing limbs and bags
when you hear the words incurable and progressive
does it burn your tomorrows?
on the mainland
we saw the traveller bent and slow
still in pain
but no less amidst the jostle
when you imagine your place in the universe
do we still come from the same cosmic beginnings?
as we passed by, we called
see you next time
and I thought of you –
you deserve islands, and mainlands too
Start at Belonging
Poems by Tara Coleman & Illustrations by Sam McLaughlan