Off The Beaten Track Poem by DM W

Off the beaten track
Where the flowers grow wilder,
Poets contemplate
The suns and moons of their dreams
In deep blue mirrors.
Away from amorphous crowds,
They are free to be
Themselves without the constant
Pressures and fingers
Pointing at what appears strange
To eyes that are scaled
And minds that are myopic.
Off the beaten track,
Poets and artists absorb
The profound silence
No longer are they at odds
With things, no longer
Are they round pegs in square holes
Off the beaten track:
Endless possibilities