Bypassana
by Vironika Wilde
When the sky rains blood and bile,
and your face remains unblemished,
don’t call this inner peace.
When the world becomes a rockfall,
and your mind stays clear as a lake,
don’t call this enlightenment.
When the arid earth cries for rainfall,
and your eyes stay dry as deserts,
don’t call this love or light.from Love and Gaslight (Soulux Press, 2020).
Wilde puts it so clearly--"what oft was thought but ne'er so well expressed", Alexander Pope's definition of wit. Wilde's poem has it!