I could have passed at that instant,
Could have passed at that moment.
It was a strange detachment that said
My place was not here,
But feeling more detached
My place was not there.

The illusion around became as an illusion,
From which I could have become detached.
That instant was a blissful one, taking
Away all fears,
Allaying all fears, all those inconsequential fears.
There was no fear in that instant.

Never before had an instant felt this way.
No such feeling of peace, contentment,
And wholeness.

That moment told me I had reached a turning point.
Beyond that point lay the present,
In which I continue to grow into new directions,
Unhindered by former fears.

Unhindered by former lives.
Unhindered by the present.

Oh Poesy, dear Poesy,
Sometimes, you are my only escape from myself
And other times, my only vestige of myself.

You are my only treasure sometimes.
And yet, my Poesy, my dear, dear Poesy,
Oft times I resent your vassalage,
Holding me, but guiding me,
Supporting me, but enslaving me.

You haunt me with things I had forgotten,
You remind me of some things better lost,
But best said.

You hide my fear with my courage,
Showing the world both, and neither.
But you fail to hide my fear from me.
You teach me fear with fear,
Courage with courage.

You teach me where this mind has been,
And take me where this mind is going.
You have taken me there, but swiftly I did
Return, the glimpse was but enough.

Dear Poesy, I find in you my treasures,
But dare I trust you with them?
Would you, my Poesy, my dear, dear Poesy,
Share my treasures with another?

Those with whom you share yourself,
Dear Poesy, you share me also.
Share my treasures wisely, Dear Poesy,
Share my hopes and fears and lessons,
My treasures, share them wisely.

Poesy, You are my treasures,
You are my fears and hopes and feelings.
You laid down my lessons long ago,
Though not ’till now do I find these Lessons’ meaning.

Perhaps I’d known those lessons,
Though now knowing more,
I find these lessons are laid down for me to follow.
Others may, but they are mine.
These lessons are the lessons of a past to
Haunt a future, to guide a future,
To find a future in some lost past.

Dear Poesy, you are my glimpse into that lost past,
My window into that future;
You are all my present can be.

Poesy, I fear you, I cherish you.
I create you line by line.

. . . No, I know:

You create me as you go.