Eton Langford Poet Rhyme

Inner Realm

The mind retains its visions of the past
Like humble seeds of memories outspread
On barren fields and, though they last
Through time, by other hands they’re nursed and fed. 

Where they were planted, often, we forget
Until our thought, inquisitive to see
What came of them, recalls the debt
Which, once, was owed to it as fee

For giving life to their descendants’ line. 
When, though, the place these seeds were left
Is found, at last, not seeds but trees and fine
Expanses clothed by forests in the cleft

Of mountains fill the view. At once, the mind
Is much surprised that what it left behind
Has altered all within itself, to blind
Pure reason in a labyrinth whose paths can wind

And lead awareness where it never knew
There was a trail to find. By this device, 
Our inner realm is made a mystery and few
Are those whose sight can peer upon it twice.

Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com

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