Poem – Synaesthesia

Synaesthesia

My senses are like five petals on a curious flower,

Or five voices on a silken string:

They merge and work in harmony,

Paint a reflection of the world.

Yet if I look in closer,

Inwards, inside myself,

I see that each is clearer than clarity,

That none are shrouded by the rest.

I look at the sun

As he sinks down

In an arc below sky

And touches the sea then, he falls further down

To lie asleep in her heart.

As I do,

Blue and orange, scarlet, gold

Settle in the evening sky

Like birds, they come to rest.

And as I watch the colours,

Each has a note, a tone, a voice

Which form a chord no human could notate.

I see the colours,

Hear the chord

And a scent wafts down to me

More secret than a shadow,

A time before the past,

A vision of beyond the future.

As I see the colours,

Hear the chord

Smell the scent,

A leaf of velvet,

A tightly woven web of gossamer

Comes to rest around me.

As I see the colours,

Hear the chord,

Smell the scent

And feel the leaf-like web of velvet gossamer,

A taste of fire,

Of beauty,

Of eternity,

Of softest coarseness

And of dreams

Spreads softly through my inner self.

Now, the moon rises from the sea

And takes her place upon the sky.