Foreboding are the columns set before the chamber with my soul.
The doorway beckons me, calling me without light to guide the way.
What lies within the darkness calls.
Beckoning me is the doorway to my soul.
James B. Shoop
You’ll find the Answer Downstairs
My eyes dance around this burst of creativity,
My ears hear the voice within my trying to captivate the meaning,
My heart feels a thing but isn’t quite satisfied.
No, there is much more to this.
A deeper thought than my eyes, ears or heart can see, hear or feel.
If only I know why.
Why is this just-born woman hovering over the trees?
Why does she lay peacefully over this green and grand forest?
Why are these eyes staring so much that they seem to be looking at me, the real me?
What is that lady-waterfall relesing with her pure liguid?
Is the man next to her the bedrock of her existence?
Why are they, those eyes and heads like turtles comeing out of their shells,
constantly watching her like a prisoner’s guard?
Finally I shall conclude
My soul will reveal whatever it may but,
Your thoughts, your knowing it will never say.
ABOVE: James B. Shoop and Rose Cordova* Poems are not to be copied without permission from the poets.