Black it was, blacker than black
A black that seemed to suck light
Out of everything around it
That seemed to eat light
So far black it was hard
To see any details on it
A black uncomfortable
To be near, frightening
In its embodiment of void
Of bottomless abyss
It had not completely defeated
The high tech scans
They were indistinct, not giving
Their usual fine detail, but
Showed enough to reveal
Something alive inside
Growing and changing
In metamorphosis
Opinions what to do with it differed
Kill it, but how?
Launch it back to the depths
Of space between the stars
Freeze it and open it and
Study the creature within
Let it mature and emerge
And find a use for it.
While they debated, the thing
Inside continued to become
And was aware of them
And making plans
Plans darker than its
Dark chrysalis shell

Bob Wertzler is retired from almost twenty years in the mental health field in California and Arizona. There are times the title, “Recovering Therapist”, seems to fit. In 2006 he retired to move to Western North Carolina to help and become primary care giver for his father who had developed Dementia. Before all that, there was work at various times as a soldier (US Army 1967-70), community organizer, cab driver, welfare case worker, wooden toy maker, carpenter, warehouse worker, and other things. He relates to a line in a Grateful Dead song, “What a long, strange trip its been.”