Cave
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Listen to poem:
Paint a picture,
Build a setting,
Will for passage,
Upon this day.
Rearing its ugly head,
Ghosts with haunting,
As warmth rises,
Shadow of one's own,
Philosopher's cave.
Once entered, only the chosen return.
It seems
Rush of profound air can not see,
One must ask,
Substance?
Godforsaken "Matter?"
Touching to be known,
The unreal never fades,
"La notte porta consiglio."
In need, not face,
A fallen leaf,
Guide thee?
... No.
Random, though it chances,
For the perfect landing,
Understanding at anymore of beginning,
Crazy one may say.
"Perhaps, but then are we not all...
in our own ways?"
Copyright © Lee Norton | Year Posted 2023
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