Joyce K

 

There is this Lady I know, I thought I knew.

Could I have been so wrong, from my point of view ?

She perceives herself, a cardboard silhouette of a soul,

a papier mache doll, an image we all should know.

 

A shallow pond residing in the middle of this human ocean

is how she sees herself to be – a very strange notion

for me to comprehend as I look into the depths of her mind

and reflect upon all I know, that has shown her to be so kind,

 

deep, thoughtful, caring - giving her all throughout

her living a life of advocacy, concern and no doubt,

much, much more than I know or of my word

- in this attempt at poetry – that she might have heard.

 

This Lady with such a fine mind – a model for man kind –

who looks back in time, within, and cannot seem to find

one moment in a long ( seventy eight years ) life time

to recall, remember, feel her humanness in a flake of love,

 

a speck of joy, a line of happiness, a pool of blissfulness from above,

a stream of contentment, satisfaction for and from all the good

she has done for this world of troubled mankind, where he stood

the self. the self-satisfied, the self-destructive, and the lost.

 

I want to believe she has known a flake, a speck. a line tossed,

a pool, a stream and that these have been a part of her experience.

Are known, if not in the conscious, in the subconscious existence.

Is she to be, not but – as we look upon and within – veneer ?

 

A mosaic overlay on cardboard papier mache, she wants us to hear.

Not a mighty Oak, Maple, Mahogany, Teak, Burl just a paper doll.

Is this the carefully contrived image she believes ?, is this her fall

from grace ?, she thinks herself to be ?, - not the beauty of soul, of acts,

 

of the face I know, - but a mask to hide what?/, what are the facts ?

Is she this hollow, empty cardboard papier-mache doll ?, devoid

of feelings, of love, just walking through life, living it, must avoid.

I think not, nor can I – not even in my wildest of dreams believe

 

or perceive of such possibilities -  but then, who am I to conceive,

to question the perception of the one who should truly know

herself, intimately better than anyone else on this planet could show.

So all these assumptions I have put out there, I should retrieve.

 

B. J. “A” 2

May 14^th 2005