This poetry thing has its way of integrating
the most mundane into occasions you will
remember - and for the right reasons; like
in your search for true and proper words to
capture and constrain all rogue elements of
confused and evasive feeling it hones your
frustration to where a quantum shift begins
betiding new idioms in thinking, old palings
pall & fail under strain of rarely used argot
revealing inner meaning; you’re suddenly
wallowing in instantaneous wisdom, wear
measure of an armour of invincible insight -
invisible to all but the ‘enlightened’, see the
clear and simple in an obvious atmosphere
clouded by frustration of its polluted doubt
- and there an horizon bares witness, sees
your hand signals as words and calls aloud
to all the poet voices - behold a reckoning!
© 20 December 2013, I. D. Carswell
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