Maybe you're reading, and I'm writing, and one and one and one is three, and when you've seen enough from me, text STOP! Or maybe close your eyes. With that, here's another whatever it is. And now maybe it's not just ink on paper.
Lost and Found
Lost in poetry I've had my feet burned
as the sun slid unseen over the eaves.
Heard the music of words that had me in tears
bitter and sweet, of joy, sorrow and defeat.
Had sleep lost scribbling flowery lines
that in the light of day were gibberish.
Felt the viper strike the fair newlywed,
robed, veiled and slippered in white.
Looked back in anxiety as Orpheus had,
into a dark empty dream, and awakened alone.
Written then these last lines from a message received
on the memory of an ancient dancing tree
found sealed in a bottle from across the sea.
Wow. Beautiful.
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