What Filters In

It’s not that I’m only inspired

while lugging my esoteric

case through virtual reality,

panting as I take the stairs.

Just give me a second

to catch my breath,

the constant friend who’s

telling me something I’m not

present to hear.  I look for

patterns everywhere, not just

these striped shadows on the

sunlit curtains.  Monday, I sipped

vanilla latte with my friends in LA,

on Wednesday it was black

coffee after the funeral in

Crawfordsville—too wet to plant,

the fields fallow and overgrown

with wild mustard.  Green heron-

lakeview on Thursday and somehow

today I’m here with a foamy

bulletproof concoction in sunny

Florida.  In each place, welcomed

and seen, pulled by a thread

across the continent, through

time and space.  Yesterday as we

pierced a fluffy white cloud,

the child behind me squealed,

“Ooh, Mommy, look!” Swallowed

into this playful being,

left quizzical: did I really 

emerge?  How can I

write poetry when I’m

deluged by symmetry?

I guess I’ll go

walk this tail-wagging dog.

Inspired by: Quizzical, Patterns, Esoteric and Virtual.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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