The Fountainhead Poem by Janet Willemien Mulligan

I am in my head and I live like the Divine
Witness to the mess of life in the flesh,
Of faster times and blessed shrines
My mind wanders as it climbs.

My body aches for sweet, green grapes
Illicit pleasure to my soul that treasures,
A silky soft touch means so much
I can never get enough.

Suddenly struck by a distant delight
Overcome by my keen foresight,
Control is the center of surprising attacks
That provide understanding where I lack.

Crashing down comes the crown
My gown of smiles turned into a seedy frown,
Forewarned of the currents’ power and speeds
No chance that I can see that tacit, as creed.

Because I am fraught by a lacking scope
All I have is my hope,
To practice waiting for prose
I cannot believe in a bed, petal full o’ rose.