Sunday, 25 February 2007 14:14
Lisa Jain Thompson
Mumblings
Mumblings, meandering up from the inner consciousness,
Rumbings through the deeper mind,
To arrive as a thought.
A conclusion: a voice speaks, an eye blinks, a hand moves a mother loves.
An electronic pattern upon which the earth balances,
The pendulation of a poised hand,
Awaiting the final decision.
Lisa Jain Thompson
September 15, 1966
Poetry Cycles -
Ancient of Days