More Poems by Cecelia Spinning Wheels Wish Song for the End of May Drawing Lesson Without The Visitors Passage More About Cecelia You can email Cecelia at hagence@aol.com

Cecelia Hagen Night Vision Me crazy, made mute, my spine a barometer of tension. Frozen corpses in my dreams, no more saucy and satisfied girl, gone the confident mom, the champion juggler. Now I can't think about any one thing for two minutes straight. To conjure up a better time I snap the leash on the collar, happiness palpable in the rein-like leather. I move invisibly through dark streets as the dog's tags jingle and my steps sound sure on the pavement. Looking into well-lit rooms at the order and jumble of other people's lives the sight serves up an untrammeled mystery: Jung says the way out of a conflict we can't solve is to outgrow it, to develop a new consciousness. Torment objectified is still torment, but to say "I suffer" is to move to a new level. Walking the dog I make my move, see how eagerness follows activity like a shadow. The trees toss their gigantic heads jubilant and truant, as if they agree with my conclusions. I turn toward home where, under my own lights, I'll think of how I suffer as I stand at the stove to start my next magnificent meal.