The Squaring Knife Poem by Michael Joseph Ferguson
The Squaring Knife
my shadow's wake
plum and full with longing
and the silent moving meadows below indicate
my altitude has grown even more pronounced
the sea of consciousness
has feathered me
my fears have morphed into
confections of sweet honey laughter
patience like a squaring knife
has aligned me, perpendicular
to that strange and lustrous
Light
that now peers out from behind everything.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 11:20:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
