James Thomas Hazard
His train of thoughts
led him to think
That thoughts in
themselves (tested in theory)
Were as true as the
tangible things
He tended to think
about
This gave him a
startling, though satisfying sense
Of the transcendental
character of cognition -that,
however strange it
may sound,
Ideas are the bedrock
of what the world is built on
He wasn’t conscious,
of course, of any change
That may have
happened to himself.
It was just a
pleasantly persistent thought
That shaped the flow
of other thoughts
The way a stone can
part a stream
His wife was the
first to exclaim,
“Lately you’re dull
and distant, Dan.
It’s like you’re
adrift or dreaming!”
It was true that the
frantic follies
He used to follow on
the nightly news
Now left him numb and
noncommittal.
Food had little
flavor.
Music was monotonous
And politics seemed
pointless
He might have endured
this indefinitely
But for one dark
evening, as he fumbled for a fuse,
And was electrocuted,
Knocked cold as a
blackout drunk in his own backyard
And awakening with
something akin to awe
Like a man returning
from rest to reality