12-02-15 Poem: Enshrouded

[Beth]

Enshrouded
12-02-15
for B


What spell are you under?
It’s this that I wonder.
The shroud that you wear is not yours.
Is it time to let it go?
Release the sorrow?

You were only offered to accept it and then transform it; you were not supposed to go running around owning it to the end of days.

That last line doesn’t really fit into the poem very well. :p
And not even necessarily to accept it – at first simply to recognize it.

Look at this, these games they play!
Hidden from themselves in the bright light of day!
“Oh a shroud” you said, “no it cannot be!
Let me look closer, the better to see!
No one could wear a shroud so dark,
So it must not really be there!
I do not believe it! I’ll examine it further,”
And now it’s the one that you wear.

It’s a costume party, so nobody minds.

But you could examine something else very closely, if you wanted to.

From the cabinet comes forth a shallow dark dish, and it’s laid upon the table.
Water is poured in, steeped with mugwort, to aid in the sight of the able.
Gaze across the surface of time, and let images flow as they will.
Eventually, if you stay, you will see,
The you who was, before curiosity
Pulled you into the game,
Had you changing your name
Magnifying your focus thus, still.
When you see it, you’ll cry, “Oh no, this can't be!”
Making it up, you will think.
But ponder it further, and let it seep in
As you gaze across darkness of ink

If that shroud was yours, you would see but naught
Across those herb waters of time
‘cept your own face enshrouded, and perspective still clouded
By the focus so strongly inclined.

Therefore if you see, the wisps there will be, of things you don’t quite yet believe,
It is to these that you could engage your curiosity
And let its magnification enlarge on this eve
Those half-formed shapes of memories…




.