If my eye wanders
From the being
Of any, of every moment,
I become traitor
To my observing
Through my seeing
Be fascination
With knowing
Obsessively remembering
From present perspective -
But it is not doing
Not a catching up
Of the obligation
To acknowledge
To reverberate
Both to the past
And to now.
No action would be adequate.
It must be limbo
The domain of the zombie,
This quandary.
Questions, unquestioned discoveries, and answers in parable and rhyme…. This collection records a journey starting with a 1960s retrospective and the first man on the moon, moving to a new millennium welcomed in with a terrorist spin, family crises,
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Sandie Angel :o)