Circles within circles chase around the mind
Forming balls of confusion, hard to unwind.
Tangled dreams, ragged thoughts,
Recycled ideas and beliefs that had been bought.
Around and around they fly like spinning wheels of time
Confusing the senses with what is yours and what is mine.

Act Two begins with the freshness of wind 
Changing directions; to end is to begin.
When hope rises slowly like a morning mist
The sun shines obliquely with a sudden twist.
The air is clear like a painter’s light,
Hope blossoms full on a moonlit night.

Frightening simplicity.
Is complex comfort?
Is comfort complex?
Take away the me
And what do you find?
Memories of emotions left behind.

October 2020

Written as an exercise within a printed labyrinth, thanks to Wind River Retreats.

Categorized as Poems

By John A Longbottom

I am a wordsmith, an editor who merely arranges the words I've been gifted into pleasing patterns. I am a retired professional musician and part-time songwriter. The songs keep coming and here they are. I am also a recent cancer survivor a situation that I believe has enabled the current flood of inspiration most of which I share here. My hope is that the you the reader may find hope and inspiration in the fabric of these pieces.

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