Cellar Door

revised poem for format



The cellar door    
the breathing
floor            
that every poet keeps      
                   
in dreams
alive            
the other
cross        
for those that find the strength        
           
beneath a world            
in quiet mind,            
where stones and statues speak,

there comes
a time,
you realize,    
the secret's far too deep...
           
*
*
           
The human
mind,  
it lay
inside,      
the ocean's euphony,    
   
and how
the fears,      
they
recollect            
the candle's memory,    

and you were
there            
in darkened
mind,            
in waters cold and bleak,            
     
the cellar
door,            
the breathing
floor,            
and nothing more is seen.

*
*
*