My senses take information
To pass on to the brain;
I can feel many times a gap
In time before the brain gives me
The meaning of what the senses
Have registered: it is like the hearing
Of thunder seconds after the flash.
The interval frightens me,
Of oncoming Alzheimer’s.
During the interval,
Had I disappeared,
Exploring the gap?
Like that Chinese painter
Who invited the Emperor
Entered the painting saying,
‘Come, let us go see
Where the painted gate leads to”,
And never came back!
D T Joseph
02.02.08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem