Lines of Force and Resistance
Inside me—
Thought trails
That won’t align,
That diverge
And confound the mind.
Memory traces
That map our history,
Fragile
And evanescent,
At the mercy of me
And Time’s machinery;
Lines that fade
And degrade so readily,
As I try to erase
Ley lines of Fate
And keep the mystery.
"Memory traces
That map our history,
Fragile
And evanescent,
At the mercy of me
And Time’s machinery"
What indeed lies inside of us, hidden, but guiding the way. A wonderful esoteric write, John:)
Thanks, Pryde - that's a perfect word to describe the effect I was looking for - esoteric. I like that as a descriptor for this type of poetry
It transfers both a sense of knowledge and wonder. I have another poem up. Stop by if you get a moment:)
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