The spectre itself invades the mind,
an illusion of sorts, within time
finding place on the page.
Wonders never cease, not in
the unrelenting rhythm or melody
in a surge of words.
As if there is always a place
for dialogue or description
which beckons a state of grace.
Unsupported, at times, by
ulterior motives or unfulfilled
intentions from days or years
gone by, the presence of a mind
undeterred or oblivious to the
surrounding space.
And if allowed, a personal choice,
you will surface, undefeated,
above the noise.
04/07/2021 j.g.l.
