At Eleven Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Walking around, looking at auras coming up from depths
of melodies I'm now listening to.
Oftentimes, hearing voices from beyond earth's limits,
journeying to me in silent whisperings of knowing.
Interiorly, falling into facets of mathematical
formulas, adjoining the numerical with coded words,
daring anyone to figure them out.
When just eleven years old I figured this aspect of
coding and have been using it ever since in every
poem I've written.