Agree With My Vision

Still tired in spite of everything I have tried, my head
a dust-bag – miniature motes swirling within - the
slow whirlwind called my heartbeat growing weak,
wish I could sleep, one deep slumber to switch
my mind to a different wavelength

This thickness of being, sluggish like cold molasses, keeps
me lumbering through minefields of barbed-wire thoughts,
trying to break free just leads me to the darkness beyond
my eyeballs, all dreams focus on self-discipline, my child-
hood ideals haunting me

Did I learn patience, can I draw upon the strength of self-
discipline? Has my life been in vain, has all this exercise in
self-control been profitable - am I ready to tackle a new
form of existence in an astral realm where every thought
manifests without an intermediate phase

of slow becoming? Am I ready to move on from this sphere
where the only hope lies in visualisation of a new universe,
improving what-is to what-ought-to-be – though it is an
open question whether anyone else
would agree with my vision…

poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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