Mystical Poem by Doris Cornago

True words aren't eloquent;

Eloquent words aren't true

So, be true if this fits you

but I will be me, mystical.


How many words to rhyme

What is the rhythm in a meter

and what must you measure

When breathing comes, breathe.


We want a poem to express

every stage of hasty undress

so fine, if God is really divine

comes a fruit in every clime.


We enter the world in roles we abhor

we make a retreat and close the door

soon there will be banging, voices

saying come out, the world is out here.


Hanging on a ledge, tethering

between then and now, stretching feet

turned a ninja and appear-disappear

back to normal, the world is nevermore.


Longer or shorter, the days come

Images long buried are unearthed

come, look, see this is me -

looking inside a box, I found dust.