SCRYING

Sometimes I feel like a crystal ball

like nostalgia flows through,

yet something I haven't experienced

at all.

 

But in another place.

A place that incites

more substance,

more grace.

Like when you look in the mirror

and see real your face.

 

This tingle grazes my

skin

and the troubles of the day...

..wait what trouble,

and I breathe again.

 

Then my head turns

as I'm obliged to learn.

I'm more interested to give

than receive and burn.

 

I wonder of a reckoning,

the proof of what call

keeps beckoning.

 

Is it mine or am I to give it

away?

Sometimes I use it to lessen

the pangs.

 

As for now my smile's pure.

And I know this scrying alone is not the cure.

 

But oh how I love this crystal ball, this vision of

existence..

beyond all these walls.

 

Matt DeFranco