Explore that obscure point
Explore that obscure point,
Along lines of perspective,
Where life translates into
The second life of dreams,
Or where loss becomes words.
There is a subtext to everything
But it continously slips away,
Like love, like time. So we chant,
We invoke , resurrect, transmute
Our desires into language.
Our tongue lives in a dark cavity.
Ideas only exist by being reduced
To flesh and bone. You can hold
A hand, grasp a throat, but water
Always slips away despite being wet.
That taste or smell half forgotten,
That sorrow that squeezed your heart,
That joy that pulsed in your neck,
That clenched fear, that tenderness,
Dissolves, digested by the past.
To stop these being illusions,
We make a libary of symbols,
Of magic, a mystery voice.
It asks simple questions.
The answer is always the same.
Harald Edwin Pfeffer 17-9-2021