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The window to the soul?
Nothing more than glass.
Complete with chipped paint frame and dusty sill
It looks like any other
you have breathed on before.
And the gate to the soul?
Wrought iron posts
Fashioned with twists and a dull sharp point
at the top of each.
It looks like any other
You have leaned on before.
Such otherwise romantic notions,
Stuff of poetry, sunsets,
and most-beautiful-thing-you've-ever-seens
Like the frosty blue of Poseidon's eyes
May mesmerize you
But the blue is no more than the swell of the sea
Just before crashing into rock
Into a billion shards of white.
[ 5-12-03, 4-04 ]
© 2003 Chad Johr