“The Two Worlds” is a central theme in many poems written by American poet, author, and translator - Robert Bly. I have been fascinated by Bly’s poetry since I was first introduced to it many years ago. There is always the image of a “world” or “the Two Worlds” in his work. And, along with the image of “the Two Worlds” is the implication that somehow there is a battle or tension between two worlds or a conquest of one world over another. He speaks often of an “internal/inner” world and an “external/outer” world.
Alan pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at the blood at the corner of Amanda’s mouth. She whispered an apology before lapsing into another coughing fit. Only the black clock in the otherwise completely white hospital room watched them. Seconds marched past, each tick ringing in Alan’s ears like a funeral toll.
The ocean has always enchanted me. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’m a Pisces. Maybe it’s simply that, near the ocean, I experience levels of awe, peace, contentment, and hope that I don’t experience on a regular basis during my day-to-day life.
A cumulus cloud drifts across a clear spring sky. To Alana, resting on her sofa, staring out of the window, it seems to be the shape of a seal with a God-like beard. A seal god, she thinks. What'd that be like? Would it ponder the divinity of diving, the worship of waters, the beatitudes of blubber?
Enough nonsense about a seal god, she tells herself. Why not try to see the real one instead.
By the time I graduated from high school, I’d already been disabled for a decade. My assailant was rheumatoid arthritis. The disease caused my immune system to launch an absurd attack on my body, and destroyed my joints with lightning speed. At 18, I still walked as much as I could, but I sometimes had to use a wheelchair. I hated the damn thing, and hid it in the corner of my room.