The feeling I get when I look inside the wet, stormy grey, on a rainy day
Its the terror of knowing and the anxiety of not knots, turning the sea inside of me
I think I know for only I ever can but I know also that you know too
I play a silly song and I fear what you know as I pound out the sounds I realize I cannot
Now, I try to return to the quiet, inner helm lord of a familiar realm
Only, I fear, as I steer that there’s nothing there instead of beauty, breathing I ponder the mundane
A huge, greasy cheeseburger in a wicker basket, with fries flashes in my inner eyes
Followed quick by a noisy ad rhyming tunes, not mythic runes
Later, I gather my scattered thoughts looking in relief at the train lying peacefully on the shoulder derailed by the fateful boulder
Ignorance must precede knowledge and somehow submit to his advances, mounting…
But this steed hides in the high grass approaching like a feeling you never know when it started or when it will end
(beyond our control within our grasp inside our minds our essence knowledge).