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Joyce K

There is this Lady I know, I thought I knew.
Could I have been so wrong, from my point of view ?
She perceives herself, a cardboard silhouette of a soul,
a papier mache doll, an image we all should know.

A shallow pond residing in the middle of this human ocean
is how she sees herself to be – a very strange notion
for me to comprehend as I look into the depths of her mind
and reflect upon all I know, that has shown her to be so kind,

deep, thoughtful, caring - giving her all throughout
her living a life of advocacy, concern and no doubt,
much, much more than I know or of my word
- in this attempt at poetry – that she might have heard.

This Lady with such a fine mind – a model for man kind –
who looks back in time, within, and cannot seem to find
one moment in a long ( seventy eight years ) life time
to recall, remember, feel her humanness in a flake of love,

a speck of joy, a line of happiness, a pool of blissfulness from above,
a stream of contentment, satisfaction for and from all the good
she has done for this world of troubled mankind, where he stood
the self. the self-satisfied, the self-destructive, and the lost.

I want to believe she has known a flake, a speck. a line tossed,
a pool, a stream and that these have been a part of her experience.
Are known, if not in the conscious, in the subconscious existence.
Is she to be, not but – as we look upon and within – veneer ?

A mosaic overlay on cardboard papier mache, she wants us to hear.
Not a mighty Oak, Maple, Mahogany, Teak, Burl just a paper doll.
Is this the carefully contrived image she believes ?, is this her fall
from grace ?, she thinks herself to be ?, - not the beauty of soul, of acts,

of the face I know, - but a mask to hide what?/, what are the facts ?
Is she this hollow, empty cardboard papier-mache doll ?, devoid
of feelings, of love, just walking through life, living it, must avoid.
I think not, nor can I – not even in my wildest of dreams believe

or perceive of such possibilities -  but then, who am I to conceive,
to question the perception of the one who should truly know
herself, intimately better than anyone else on this planet could show.
So all these assumptions I have put out there, I should retrieve.

B. J. “A” 2
May 14th 2005
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