Out of Kilter

Out of Kilter

Even before I could walk or stand,

I knew I held within me a different sort of plan.

Some pointed fingers shouting obscenities,

At a child caught up in a world of creativity.

Unfolding in darkness night’s cloak that smothered,

Were creatures and angels and mysteries to uncover.

Some fantasy or mystical beings that stood tall,

Throughout the rooms and floated down the halls.

Perhaps it was simply shadowy figures playing tricks,

Pushing billowy curtains resembling a visitor’s trip.

In and out the windows, it would appear to be true,

That there was a nightly visitor, perhaps even two.

Unchained in my world, I watched those blinded by fate,

Some dying, some flying, some standing up to debate.

But whatever they were, those invisible partakers,

They’ve remained in my life like good neighbors.

I write of them from time to time,

When life offers me a passage into my mind.

There on the river banks of a make-believe world,

I often hear a summons as clouds begin to swirl.

You’re still out of kilter, they remind me yet again,

And begin to spin their charms as swirling dervishes can.

Onward and upwards they twirl around and around,

Lifting from the earth, not allowing me to touch the ground.

You’re still out of kilter, they shouted once more,

As they joined with the music performing dances I adore.

I know I’ll never fit in or be like all the others,

But to be me, that person out of kilter,

Allows my mind to give invisible creatures shelter.