Saturday, February 7, 2015

Scavenging the Intangible





I know you are there, but sometimes to find you
To touch you, to feel you or hear you, my dear
Vexes the traveler of uncharted sphere
You leave no footprint or shadow behind you

Veiled by the masses, and what we think we know
You, at the mercy of fingertips and lips
Pulse with Becoming; where a whole new world drips
Quiet, like earth beneath a blanket of snow

Ah poem, I know not what you'll be wearing
But silence can roar with the essence of you
Come, come, chameleon, the presence of you
Weighs white-washed whispers with momentous bearing

© Janet Martin

Sometimes, when I sit before an empty page searching the silence for the poem of the day it's a bit like an uncharted treasure-hunt:)

The eleven-beat lines are a little clumsy but it just wanted to be that way today!

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