Will-o’-the-Wisp
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“False hopes are the Will-o’-the-Wisps of life — seductive, luminous, and cruel in their retreat.” - George Eliot
“A phosphorescent gleam — like a Will o’ the Wisp — danced along the path, luring the traveler deeper into the woods of his own heart.” Nathaniel Hawthorne (in The Scarlet Letter).
“Modern man is like a sleepwalker led by a Will-o’-the-Wisp, seduced by illusions of progress while forgetting the depths of the soul.” - Carl Jung
Listen to poem:
The furtive idea, flares ghost-ignited,
in a fevered yellow-blue glimmer,
on the edge of sight,
just out of reach,
beckoning you towards it.
Pirouetting, bobbling and whirling,
above the sodden, choking, black mire
of mundane, numbed and stale thoughts.
You draw near,
It slips away.
Crawl closer.
It slings away.
Try to snatch a side-ways glance—
It dissolves,
like a phantom mirage.
But this will-o'-the-wisp—
this alluring fiery gas spirit
is undeniably real.
It’s not an illusion,
but a seductive snare,
a promise left dangling, festering, unmet,
until cornered, captured,
shattered and scorched,
torn, beyond recognition
by the ruthless pursuit,
in the reek of the marsh-fume ooze,
before dusk, devours the day.
Copyright © John Anderson | Year Posted 2025
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