“We write to leave a trail that says:
to find me, come this way”
©Sherry Blue Sky
Inspired by the last two lines of Sherry Blue Sky’s beautiful thought provoking poem “Why we write”. Does the interpretation of a poem reveal the reader’s thoughts much more than it explains the vacillations of the poet’s mind? I wonder….
There are more truths in a barstool stain,
than in the iambic catharsis of a poet’s pain.
…but what if my poems are rain clouds,
with the lost recipe for petrichor…?
… what if they are a five spice trail
a treasure map to a forgotten soul…?
A blinking cursor between garrulous lines?
So every voyeur can track the signs?
…maybe these verses are dead stars,
a bloody path to a buried past…?
I made a list of your Freudian slips,
(alphabetized and hyper-linked of course)
and a matrix of metaphors by texture and mood.
Oh, I can read the pattern in the broken shards,
the jagged edges of angst and hope,
the kintsugi flares over reconstructed time,
But that can be anyone,
that is everyone,
not just you.
…maybe the welded stanzas are magic mirrors
reflecting your thoughts as your lips move,
you follow the trail your mind reveals,
it switches back, comes back to you.