Questions
I go back in pearl-white consciousness
Where lies my own future possibility
Thousands of gray existence questions
Remain to be answered in the finite space
Filled with tiny snow-flakes of fallible logic
When I finally go knowledge shall arrive
In luminous trails and gusts of wind bringing
Autumn-leaves of answered questions.
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Poetry based upon actual experiences, not one thought up in the intellectual aridness of a pseudo-thinker. Words as they mean in the specific context of recollected thought or image , not meaning several things at a time but that which re-creates an aura or a haze of an earlier experience.
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