"The Passerby"

Jason Cole Magnon

Original: 15 May 2007

Revised: 27 Otober 2015

“The Passerby”

An unguided entity hovers nearby

As she waits to pass through that unfiltered sky.

No sight, nor sound does the lone girl emit

As fibers embrace her: enclosed and tightly knit.

Her ideas of Heaven, her fears of Hell, leave her with nowhere else.

Her thoughts loop and drift, her sentiments are swept in a wind that

Rustles reality, like an Autumn breeze that's come to gather dead leaves
That fall for winter but return in the lively, fertile soil of spring.

A true path can be found in the way of the individual, and 

The madman dashes over and beyond the flaming coals.

The mad fall freely into the fiery contradictions of

  The hells in the dichotomies beneath this veil.

  Few pass by though.

  Few pass along their sentiments and greetings.

  Few have outlived me.
  I feel somewhat few, 

  and far, far between,

[of what, I cannot surmise… but, ask a passerby, and you may be surprised]