The Maze of Metaphors

I saw the ghost
Of Michelangelo
It was in a Maze
Of Metaphors
Or was it the moon
In cameo appearance
That made an image
Of that old chiseler

O why
Are you so troubled
My young troubadour
Meandering in a Maze
Of Metaphors

The artist stood by
His "Window to the soul"
A painting of colors
That never dry
His brush was dipped
In a black hole
And a star burst
In the gleam of an eye

I saw chameleons
Square dancing in delight
On a chessboard
Stretching to infinity
It rained crystal balls
As two white cranes
Were faced with
Endless possibilities

Old Father Time
With a beard of indigo
Was turning
An hourglass of sand
Inside the glass an ant
Chased a grain of rice
And made the cosmic
Order get out of hand

With an ant up my sleeve
I built castles in quicksand
Having time and broken
Glass on my hands
Then I had a sinking feeling
That I was in a hole
It was an impression that
Mirrored my soul

I was building a sandcastle
As the sun upon the bay
Became a crystal wand
Of sparkling rays
I looked at wrinkled fingers
All speckled with golden sand
And the universe 
Was in the palm of my hand



© 1996 Stefan des Lauriers