I’m not looking anymore for wisdom’s roses.
Their keen fragrance no longer seduces me.
Worldly knowledge is but a shadow of the real.
I’m not looking for verdant gardens of beauty.
I’m now searching for something else, hinted
At by profound poetry and art: A frail, yet
Significant light at the centre of dreaming:
That calls me softly from the other side of night.
A Change Of Direction
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