Slowly you scale the walls of my mind

And pry open doors long left shut

to awaken a child from his slumber

Rubbing his sleepy eyes he beholds you

What are you?

A primal dough kneaded by invisible hands

hiding some news from my creation?

A herd of wild horses, their manes flying

thundering across distant desert plains?

The spent eyes of a lonely lover

at that part of the night?

Maybe you're a flowing constellation of stars

remembering each time I have come and gone

A migration, a nation on move

destiny their guide, their end unknown.

Or a battle-ground, cannons going off in the dark

who're the foes, what's the prize, what're the losses?

Perhaps:

You're the milk that flows from nature's breast

in abundance, nurturing all alike

Or a blanket that covers, a bandage that hides,

fearful wounds on a naked earth

Are you the words of all the poets

who died before they could speak

Like perspiration you now rise from earth

that tires of bearing your heavy load?

Maybe you're me

(In a mirror that never lies

but is always beyond my reach)

With ripples that are traces of hidden currents

and fish that break through you occasionally

-signs of life in me

Perhaps you're a fog

that muffles distant sounds

so I may hear my own music

as it percolates through my skin...