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None the wiser,
are we, 
were we, 
will we be.

After the before,
going through that very door,
to where, 
a better place,
a haven,
a port of call,
is that all.

Or is there more behind that door,
stop up and listen,
what was that,
only my feet on the mat,
and yet I thought
I heard...
or did I,

Its silent here,
just like a landscape full of snow,
the only sound,
a stream down far below. 

Style / type: 
Free verse
Last few words: 
I started with the phrase " none the wiser" and the rest followed.
Editing stage: 


I found this to be a wistfully peaceful poem, there are thoughts and feelings swirling through the whole thing, I often start with my first line and then the rest just seems to come, from ? I don't know where but I am grateful that I can express myself in words, it can be a release and it can be very healing

beautifully written I love the look of the poem and right at the very end I look down and there is a stream slowly peacefully flowing along, sigh its that kind of poem

much love JC xxx

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

I suppose its healing, then that's an everyday kind of
healing, like breathing for me, as I don't feel sick,
or troubled much, even though it has been a big
change to live differently, I just keep going on,
living in the now of it all.

But this poem was a reflective one on life,
that's why you used the word wistful I think.

Thank you dear Jayne, and love from Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

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