Hide and Seek
Words tumble like dice,
nonsense vies with sense.
Life plays hide and seek
with itself.
An artisan mixes clay,
gathers new mud,
spits into it.
He molds a prayer,
words shape themselves.
Each word is a fractal,
of a pregnant womb,
not all, but all the parts
appear
for his seeking hands
to gather in and structure.
Later, once the clay has set,
the worker will craft a cradle,
to reveal the truth of mud.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.