Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Wisdom Creek

author’s note:

Sometimes, I'll ask myself if a poem is really true to my experience.

I didn't have to ask about this one.


I usually I try to hide from you
the strains of my inflated violin--

a baroque score devoted to

I prefer, instead, to write about
how I sat down in solitude
at the wisdom creek.

Truth is:
under the spell
of such high-strung illusion
I often neglect to visit
those healing waters...

but blinded by my operatic cloud
I'll eventually trip

and land down hard, on my back--back
at the wisdom creek

then, in my stunned silence
I will hear a deeper me
and in listening, discover
some solid peace

for a little while, at least

as my monumental tumult
eases down, flows down
the stream--gone--

only to return, too soon

but with the rebound,
my song resonates
with true strength
--a fresh clarity

for a little while,
at least...

© 2014, Michael R. Patton

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