HELL MAZE

On the road to hell there are many mirrors
paved wih fear, gliding like immaculate ice
curved and leading nowhere
filled with colourful traps
noisy dreamcatchers of the misterious indwellers.
Provided with fountains
whose musical waters grant oblivion
ah, the road to hell this sunny, beautiful, noisy maze.

Running like a blind mouse
passing through gates once walled
smelling the fear of others,
running over ponds of indian lotuses
opening under the silver moon- laughing like the lesser eye of god.

From one big eye heat passion and fury are granted,
three wishes for an obedient child
that wrote the lesson of commandments
on the board of his heart
in front of the careless mob.
One lesser eye fulfills dreams
the moment they are pursued
outside the open air of the labyrinth,
in shadow where only mud grows fed by the blood of the rebels.

If only they knew the maze is built with bricks of bones
so fragile and graceful that only by the sound of lament
or laughter or pleasure it crumbles back to nowhere.

Listen to the moon child.
The secrets of the worlds are locked in her eyes.
Poetry is but her tide of indiscretion.

Posted in: hell maze,ISRAELI POETRY,poetry,poezie