Conjecture

                            Conjecture

 

“The unplumb’d, salt, estranging sea” ~ Matthew Arnold

 

What Wordsworth felt and wondered rests unknown

Against the edges of our minds.  We know,

Though not completely, what we feel.  Alone

The soul is and will always be.  The glow

From other souls, and, yes, from ours, can be

Perceived imperfectly and even if

A hint as from a poem rises, we

Get a glimpse at best.  We get a whiff

Of hidden beauty, a perfume, a glint

Of deeps that hold a lava floe.  A song

Might come and with its melody a hint,

Yet what we feel it means, though orange, strong,

And certain in wide chests, will only be

An instinct, lacking Wordsworth’s certainty.

~  Phillip Whidden

by phillipw | Sep 7, 2021 | AR, IS, Uncategorized | 0 comments