My Inner Vision
My inner vision strains to see
what all along was to be me.
The days of my life are moving past
headed for what will be my last.
Remaining in my soulish core,
there is the need for something more.
Beyond my tunneled scope of sight,
within the dark, I seek a light.
But how do I catch hold, acquire
from deep within the muck and mire
that precious golden, narrow thread
from something written, something said
that dwells hidden in my mind
but somehow memory’s left behind?
Fanciful some wise man would say
to want to know, to find a way
to bring forth an eternal phrase
that will emerge to define my days
the person who was truly me
before this earth my soul does leave.
Alas, I seem to fall short and fail
to see beyond the tattered veil
that blinds my weakened inner eye.
I fear I’m not me anymore
but someone I’ve grown to abhor.
2009 By Karen Marie Crump
My inner vision strains to see
what all along was to be me.
The days of my life are moving past
headed for what will be my last.
Remaining in my soulish core,
there is the need for something more.
Beyond my tunneled scope of sight,
within the dark, I seek a light.
But how do I catch hold, acquire
from deep within the muck and mire
that precious golden, narrow thread
from something written, something said
that dwells hidden in my mind
but somehow memory’s left behind?
Fanciful some wise man would say
to want to know, to find a way
to bring forth an eternal phrase
that will emerge to define my days
the person who was truly me
before this earth my soul does leave.
Alas, I seem to fall short and fail
to see beyond the tattered veil
that blinds my weakened inner eye.
I fear I’m not me anymore
but someone I’ve grown to abhor.
2009 By Karen Marie Crump
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