Triangular squares taking shape, forming in my mind. <br />Eliciting patterns of novel thought, sliding across memory's unconscious paths of rightful thinking. <br />Contrary to pillars of strength, all eyes fall instead, upon the weakest, least of all, manner of being. <br />Waving red and silent beacons to passers-by, steering them away, never letting anything close enough to matter. <br />Piloting music down strains of unfamiliar tunes, catching etudes at triangular moments in time, while maintaining the single square rootedness of sublime concentration from within.<br /><br />RoseAnn V. Shawiak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/patterns-elicited/
