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