Treasure Island

oskar hansen


Recollection


Hidden memories, a picture or a phrase
floats up from the depth of my consciousness,
before I can grab a pen they sink back;
how much I seek I shall never find,
what it was

A pre- birth memory before words
and meaning was invented glued to the soft
membrane of the unborn, trying to articulate
the unspoken.

Veiled memories must be sensed if I want
know anything about a world beyond
the world that cannot be understood by logic.

I must feel the forgotten, see the beauty
of a rose hidden in the woods
where only the bravest dare tread.

Submitted: Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, March 19, 2013

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