Blown In

By Cliff Lake

 

Blown In

 

A wind blown in,

Unmoving leaves,

A touch of unreal,

And a cold that cleaves.

 

How will you suffer the long chill?

Can you hold on to your will?

What gods have you left to implore?

Who opened this unhallowed door?

 

A mirror cracks across the face,

Now is rended time and place.

A journey where being unbraids,

Certainty and logic unmade.

 

A wind blown in,

Some thing aggrieved.

A touch of unreal,

And your senses leave.

 

No ease given, no sense of time,

Just this trek to benighted clime.

A glimpse of that which cannot be,

You the newest attendee.

 

Ceremony made in all dread,

Profane announcements are now pled.

Involvement you may not eschew,

As the baleful eyes look you through.

 

The thing blown in,

Your senses thieved.

A touch of unreal,

Actuality reweaved.

 

In a moment you disarranged,

In a moment forever changed.

Do you welcome this unbeing?

Do you find yourself agreeing?

 

Where have you left your sense of self?

Why be so willing to be else?

When the old world’s tricks you plied,

Were you never satisfied?

 

You are blown in,

A thing of this dark eve.

A touch of unreal,

Now you believe.

 

Cliff Lake 10/11/2024

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

Location: Wichita, KS, USA

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