Sunday, January 25, 2009


The words of mystics
Heard by a sleepwalker
Oftentimes seem like riddles
Or rantings of the mad

There is only One way
To decode the puzzle

After you have walked some
You'll find the glasses in your pocket

Put them on
And you can see


Infinite Perfect Love said...

Put them on
And you can see

It's like you ran out of track! I'm dying for one more metered line: Put them on and you can see
blah, blah, something wheee.

I need more here, but I like it so far. Seems a bit nebulous still. Be bold.

Sophia said...

I never said I was a poet.


Maybe that is all there is....

Seeing what you didn't see before.

Can I define what is seen?

Mossy said...

Great poem, because it is real it sings.

Form can be a servant or a master.

Sophia said...

P.S., I was just getting ready to say... "Metered line? What is that?"


(And I can honestly say, I don't know!)

Sophia said...

Glad you liked it, Moss. Thanks. If the creative energy flows through the poetic realms again, there may be more. But mostly it doesn't go there.... it goes to fractal world.