Sunday, November 6, 2016

Rob Schackne #143, Mousai #8 - Polyhymnia

8.


She of the sublime hymn, of all moments
Your search in the sacred grove of wonder
Polyhymnia, even-handed, circular, neverending
She loves you more than you love yourself
Never so mysterious that she won’t pay attention
She looks up at you and smiles she knows

You see her in every crowd, dressed in white
Immaculate and stoned with fresh origin
I guess you could fall in love with her
You could park the car on the footpath
Get out right there and walk up to her
OK she’d even be in the same spot waiting

How do you know what’s going on?
It’s like she speaks without using the words
Tense and punctuation are unimportant
Around her the world is halting
The parade is stopped, the marchers
Thinking of something they didn’t know

The shopping list you misplaced, wait
The job promotion you missed out on, wait
The anniversary, the school fair, wait
The early appointment you had, wait
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait
It all will come to you.


6 comments:

  1. waouh!!! and yes there are precious moments when I do feel this way!

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, chère Béatrice. Each precious moment takes us to the next.

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  2. I really enjoyed the way you've ended this one...inspiring!

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