Herman Rorschach meant for inkblots

to answer riddles of the mind

the ancients could not

As I lay in the grass looking up

at clouds and shades of sky

insects surround me with chants,

doves call out and I hear the outcry

of a faraway infant in distress

asking questions of her own

The shapes, the figures, I see above

defy definition and analysis

They shift and swirl,

kaleidoscopes of thought in flux:

Puzzles unsolved, twisting reflections

of the vast unknown

No answers, only questions,

so why not invent the face

of a girl I can fall in love with,

her profile, her hair