October 23rd, 2006

The Art II

Posted in Poetry by Mark

The art it spoke,
Of distance, things,
And bygone times,
Kindred spirits,
And riddled rhymes.

The images,
Sometimes clear,
And then again not,
Of seamless ages
And countless faces.

Whence came the muses
I know not,
Of the many faces,
I have now forgot.

When The Buddha smiled
I laughed,I wept,
Oblivion beckoned,
But I declined,
Ignorance became my bliss.

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