What are these phantom waves of thought
that bind me in embrace
as many minds across the globe
combine in cosmic space.
Whenever torn from their embrace
words wither and vacate
and once again I join life’s race
and concepts dissipate.
No muse to keep my mind alert
nor comfort my surcease
No outward flow of cryptic sense
my fervour to release.
But ever drawn back to this source
suffused within it’s worth
life’s race abates as passions soar
and visions see new birth.
The phantom waves of cosmic thought
born on the back of muse
collate to help articulate
the words that I then choose.
My ramblings then bought of this whole
and spilled in rhyme and verse
are scattered out on winds of time
their meanings to disperse.
Ivor G Davies