A song of the heart without music,
A lyrical mesh of sound and rhythms and images
Bound to a burning flame
Pounding ‘gainst my brain,
Pulsing, pressing,
Scoring the privacy of
Mind entanglements,
My predicaments.
Clarity of thought in a haiku,
Hidden in a metaphor,
Concealed in a blanket of painted pictures
Sans paint, sans sound, sans utterance,
But for the word, which is total,
A fait accompli of the soul.
