The Fragility of Rituals
The sanctuary of
His morning ritual
Was breached by a panic
A terror of not knowing
A faulty neural pathway
Starved of a protein
Cast a memory adrift
In the miniature universe
That is the brain
Where cells pulse like stars
Rippling with electrical charge
His time stopped
He was immobilised
Unable to decipher the calendar
That meticulous map of days
Shrieking
“What day is it?”
In ten seconds
Of reconsolidation
The pathways were re-lit
Like an airport runway
With a triumphant
“It’s Thursday”
The panic receded
The ritual resumed
His sanctuary restored
(2014)
