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!