Just a fish on her maiden voyage
trying to know the water
The spyglass, just a kaleidoscope
steering wind-tossed eyes
to a focus
The boat carries over
disappearing wake,
no anchor or coordinates,
her compass is cosmography
Hancock plays Buddhist chants
in mandala keys,
dancing the ocean around the stage
The virginal, the succulent body
is only eyes peeled
All voyages are new,
having divorced ego
We are all maidens in the water,
newly minted every day, it seems
Jessica Lee McMillan © 2021
Written by
MA Eng. Mama, Poet, Iconoclast, Word Nerd. Likes shiny things. Writes on Philosophy, Art, Music, Nature.
A poetry publication brought to you by Assemblage to capture all of your disconnected thoughts and let them find their form.
Written by
MA Eng. Mama, Poet, Iconoclast, Word Nerd. Likes shiny things. Writes on Philosophy, Art, Music, Nature.
A poetry publication brought to you by Assemblage to capture all of your disconnected thoughts and let them find their form.
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