Inside Plato's Cave

INSIDE PLATO"S CAVE
When a blizzard knocks
what do you do except lie low
and let the night of darkness pass?
Whom you haunt
and the fears you flee,
a visage gaunt
of your own self caught in the wind.
Say, "I am neither this nor that which you see",
But nothing will disperse the wind.
Lie low; let it pass; one day a wizard will show,
The images of you that float in the wind,
may they dissolve in the wind;
may the voices die,
the waves in the ocean,
ripples in stream,
streak of sunlight
meeting in the light
of the rush of the night
a fading twilight
receding in dream,
and the moment will come
when there will be calm and peace.