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  • Grant Handgis Author/Poet

Poetry from Mexico


Hearing the voice in us all

There was never really any doubt

what ultimately came to pass

only lessons, which I always found

to be hard to explain

for always I felt the

presence of an inner yearning

and those deeds enough

to satisfy the words of reason

I came upon a jungle trail

at the twilight of my days

immersed in the meaning

of another poet, I was pulled

along in an alluring new direction

so gently coaxed to feel my way

with invisible hands, it seems

which did all the subtle guiding

In a clearing I had reached

by the formation of a granite rock

in the softest of light, sat a solitary

figure, then to the rock to his right

with the wave of his hand

inviting me to come and join him

I sat with the man and heard his explication

slowly learning it through a silent acquiescence

The words I heard expressed, though

having known them all before, were imbued

with the simpler voice of wisdom

The journal of life's details, clutched

as spurious accoutrements, like the

inventory of our journey throughout history

The veneration of this holy script, consigns

our many earthly ventures to redundant folly

How simple it all sounded, as though

a child had given voice, to things

which most everyone had never noticed, yet

the words themselves were plain, only

in a scholarly convention, moving me

to the deepest assess of my perception

Within the realm of prescience, an inner sight

contained, silenced a dialogue I held within myself

Released from captivation, an inner voice

prevailed, posing questions to the life

we live in dream, for mirrored in the inner

eye, the dreamer's twin cast a furtive shadow

along the corridors the imagined molds of our

lonely island, illusions all they are

his voice a subtle music, those words,

the notes which played the maestro's movement

The silence of the host, left silence

within the seeker, turning many thoughts

in ponderous form to questions, and

everywhere I turned, for solace from

weary travel, the voice of doubt held captive

to my reason, the sunlight having faded

into twilight of my years, a seeker still

on a jungle trail, transposing a tiny island

Grant Handgis

Copyright 1998-2011


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