I used to be a mystic
Or at least what I thought was one
Effortless it was as a child to be completely
Transformed
Transported
Transfixed
It was more than pretend
I was these people
I went to these places
As the dust settled and the years have gone bye,
It has gotten harder to find these places again.
To be these people
It's only a feeling now
Here and there
When I stare at the lines
in my hands
I only get glimpses
Like the aftertaste of a single malt
lingering like a memory
Only a non mystic would use that metaphor
But I feel like I was a mystic longer than most