Hopefully the author of the following poem won’t mind me sharing it with you. You can also enjoy this poem and other works in the newsletter of the San Gabriel Writer’s League.
After a run-in with …
Carol Menchu
I look at us
walking around
in our individual wrappings
looking out on the world
with our individual psyches
making mountains
out of mole hills
and mole hills out of mountains
and wonder at the
wonder(less)/ness of it.
I, who know life is but
imagination’s figment,
am as guilty as all
of de/constructing
monsters in my mind
reading into what goes on
what does not exist
beyond myself.
And while I seek a freedom
away from mind’s perceptions
I am afraid to let go of myself
to freely seek this peace—
this emptiness—
this freedom away from collective
human imagination of self.
I am afraid of losing something—
What?
Control?
But isn’t the ability to lose
control of control
gaining control
of myself?
The author is very flattered.