A Lost Thought Poem by Robert Kujawa

Eyes open from a well of time past the veil of a stubborn horizon.
Lost realms of reality no longer co-exist with the supple fabric of feeling.
Dreams begin to rise, lofting behind them the backdrop of darkness.
A space not awake yet alive, where vision refuses that in reality.
Borne is the time in every breath when that challenge is before us.
All the words, never said, disease the frame that portraits' existence
For fear they would become…
For fear they would just… become…

Something is there, deeper than sound, more shallow than sight,
Color less than substance, smell less than knowing…
It's long forgotten and long dwelled upon, remaining buried,
But, like a misplaced thought, is teases the consciousness,
Drags the heart and hides the soul before a trestle of thought.
It grasps upon action and is never right in all its fallibleness.
Never breaking to yield and always itching to change,
Through holes of vanity and misplaced entitlement
We see the world through memory…