Glimpses (Poetry)

There is a shifting world behind her eyes
that shimmers like the soul’s kaleidoscope,
with darker places brooding under skies
then sudden sunlight flooding fields with hope.

Her moods reflected as the colours change —
seasonal, her inner landscape turns
misty as a distant mountain range
where still one stubborn spark of magic burns.

Each glimpse is fleeting — nothing but a ghost,
a shadow diving deep in thought’s swift stream,
imagination drifting off some coast
looming like an iceberg in a dream.

No trespassers. But rarely and by chance
the camera finds an angle to explore
and snatches in one almost casual glance
the private view behind a closing door.