A sinkhole opened up in downtown Ottawa, causing all sorts of problems and inconveniences yesterday.  Thankfully, no one got hurt, so everyone can just laugh about it, and come up with ridiculous names for it.

It got me to thinking though.  What could a sinkhole be metaphoric for?  Of course the list could be long, everything from your life coming apart or an uncontrollable situation, to debt or even love.  I’m leaving this open to interpretation, but today I’m writing about falling.

It’s like the ground opened up and swallowed me whole.

Just like I was standing over what’s now a sinkhole.

Falling fast and hard, but it didn’t hurt.

The landing must have been cushioned by mud and dirt.

I awoke from the fall in a place so dark.

Where I am, I don’t know, there’s no indicative mark.

Wherever it is, it’s warm and almost comforting.

Though I’m lost it’s a smile I’m sporting.

I start moving, finding my way through this place.

No matter where I go, my head is lost in space.

It’s like I have amnesia, I’ve forgotten my past.

Now I’m learning a whole new world, and it’s coming fast.

It’s a perfect place at the bottom of this pit.

I’m happy I fell, because down here, this is it.

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