Poets seek in poems, a truth that's yet to be: <br />to catch those glories half-formed in the mind, <br />those tantalising visions which we see <br />for fleeting seconds; fear may never find <br /> <br />again; yet leave a presence in the air, <br />the evanescent substance of a dream, <br />like half-remembered, half-forgotten care, <br />but known to be more real than they seem; <br /> <br />like friendly ghosts who share our rooms awhile <br />and conjure memories of their treasured kind: <br />a scent; a taste; a light; an echoed smile <br />from knowledge of some farther truth in mind: <br /> <br />O these are angels, heralds of the whole; <br />a golden rain that showers the dreaming soul.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0197-being-in-mind/
