Rhapsody

Poetry

And, still, what I don't understand

Is poetry's impelling hand

What is this urge to bare the soul

What is this surge that makes me whole

Sometimes the meaning's hidden well

It flashes high to cast its spell

So oft the meaning's clear as glass

I write the words and watch them pass

But, read it once, a brook is seen

The second time, a silken screen

'Tis magic of a different kind

My soul's far depths are intertwined

I paint the life with bright precision

And cast a spell of passioned vision

It sparkles at the fingertips

I spark a star, the words eclipse

At times the meaning's buried deep

I wade in far from shores too steep

I recognize the coral reef

It stands out now in bas-relief

But, look again, and it is gone

The firefly's light on summer's lawn

Or, like a glance at autumn's dawn

I sketch the tale, with charcoal drawn

For, now, such massive beauty there

Is rendered bright with massive care

And now, at last, a moment's peace

The words are laid, a short surcease

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