Logic & Poetry

A poet’s muse dances on a tightrope,

  Suspending concern about connections,

    Focusing each, delicate, step of grace.

You are mesmerized: all her word’s actions –

  Balanced, beautifully, each seamless trope.

    Her art – her being; a thin line – her place.

Illusions encompass our human race:

  Logic is not meant to limit our scope

    But to blossom in all our creations.

Inspiring steps, with no distractions –

  Logic adores the muse’s lovely pace

    Uniting him in faithful, moving hope.

For what is hers is his, and what is his is hers –

                                      They master chaos with his answers … her dancers.