- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Infinitesimal
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Try to find Meaning
in
the Dust Mote Buffeted
by the Maelstrom.
It's there.
I can see it.
Seeing,
I do not understand;
I have grasped the Veil
cast over our eyes
that hides us from what's real.
I could not
(would not?)
cast it aside.
Yet it almost
seemed I could
peer underneath.
Try to find Meaning
in
the Whispering Leaves Caressed
by the Gentle Fingers of
a Sun-Ripened Breeze.
It's there.
I have heard it.
Hearing,
I do not understand;
I have given ear to
the Voices
in my Head.
Angels and Demons
and
the Mute Dead whose
words have no Meaning
to me,
though I strain to listen.
Try to find Meaning
in the Ravaged Heart Beating
pumping Lifeblood
into
out of
its Battered Self.
It's there.
I have felt it.
Feeling,
I do not understand;
I have focused
my Awareness
on the tiniest Pinpoint.
Then outward my gaze
to Stars
and Beyond.
Infinity and
the Infinitesimal.
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