Poetry Has Gotten Hold Of My Soul Poem by DM W

In the ancient church:
Stained glass windows
Like butterfly wings;
Sprinkled with gold,
Used to inspire my fevered
Catholic imagination.

But I now belong
To the twilight realms of poetry:
Where alien gods and demons
Adorn me with strange gifts:
Serpents & wild flowers
Dust & melting roses.

In my time I've wandered
From the prescribed path,
And looked beyond the dark glass,
That the world equates with truth.

How I long to return to
The simple but unexamined life:
That childhood confers on us.
Of course some remain children,
While others walk the tightrope
Between the mysteries of life & death.
With poetry I'm sure of nothing,
And in this lies a sad kind of freedom.