Spirit in the Glass
Spirit in the glass
hand outreached touches the rim
inch by inch slowly moving
the gentle sound of the deep cup
echoes in the wind
fingers sweep the edge
with the feel of a feather
he is immortal time has no meaning
captured by love of life
fearing the end, fearing an end
slipped into the glass
hidden from the world in a corner
in plain view, for the glass is clear
All can see through, no man,
no woman , no person is looking
If unseen , unheard, it never exists, no
ignorance is bliss, but intolerable…….
The Cohenization Project 