—from Sensorium Ex
Overture
Memory . . . only fragments, moments.
And yet I think I’m real. . . .
No story, no truth.
Even so, I’m a whole person,
true as you.
All of us in pieces, broken.
Story of silence, spoken.
Nova to ova, and dust to dust—
—made of old stars
dark sparks
reborn into soft, wet selves.
A twice-told tale.
Tell it again, Mama!
Our story is old.
Telling it is not the only way
it can be told.
Our wordless history
story history story
history story history.
Seeing is not believing,
only believing is believing.
Is living.
Is alive! Is alive?
Light is a ray, see it?
Turn and it’s gone away.
Away way ay ay
day after day after day ay day ay.
Who needs light, anyway?
We learn to see by singing
in the dark.
Sing our old story
new, true.
At last I’ll hear.
I’ll understand you.
Brenda Shaughnessy is the author of Sensorium Ex: An Opera in Verse. She is a professor of English and creative writing at Rutgers University–Newark.
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