Isola

"The lunatic, the lover, the poet, are of imagination all compact."    (Shakespeare)

The lunatic a sorcerer 

enchants her own mind 

'twixt reality and dream

confutes the line

Love marks a heaven 

on her lover's brow

the calculus of Reason 

nimbly beguiled 

Golden the orbs

of crystalline glass 

unlocking cosmic radiance 

setting fire the fancy

of a poet's staff

from Infinity 

she pours a draught

seizing the elixir 

to paint a poem 

drawing nothingness 

into form 

Twining the three

a silken thread 

stringing the bow

that bends toward the sun 

her arrows

to pierce the vein

where madness and vision 

their courses run