The Inner Landscape

247

I wish I could think
about laundry
and interesting school lunches
But I find myself
Pondering intuition, dreams and
a dead man’s hunches

I marvel at the universe
and commune with the stars
I divine my inner landscape
and ask and ask and ask

Tea is a sacred ritual
Never to be disturbed
I pick up my pen
and in subtle
Slipstreams of meaning
I find myself submerged

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