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Poetry
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| Inner Places | |
| By Talisker | ||||||||
| 31 August 2006 | ||||||||
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We all have them. Sometimes they bubble to the surface for some inexplicable reason. Deja vue, forgotten lives? Day dreams? Oli There are moments in my mind, Unconstrained by space or time. Which have been there since before I came to be. I know that they are there, Because on occasions rare, Doors somehow open . I’m allowed to peak inside. Some magic mix of smell, An evocation, ancient spell? Serendipitous, happenstancial Come to pass. Then with reverential wonder, Inner curtains torn asunder. A fleeting glimpse of things I somehow know so well. They may visit while I sleep, Or in contemplation weep. These recordings of another Life and time. Sun-kissed summers, hazy lanes, Unremembered sweet refrains. Unlived lifetimes from within My psyche deep. These ephemeral photographs, Eerie echoes, children’s laughs, Are of me and yet somehow I know they’re not. They’re from places far away, Over rainbows, sunbeams play, Where my soul can wander Never followed paths.
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