Piérre Ramon Thomas

He Escapes Me

by Piérre Ramon Thomas

I see very distinctly in my mind’s eye
The reflection of a man gentler, more 
        serene than I.
The man I see is me, and yet he's also 
        not me,
For he's who I'm not, but he who I 
        aim to be.
I can almost apprehend him, he whose 
        nature is petal-like soft
But he escapes my grasp and perches 
        the nearest cloud aloft.
He runs from him whose composition 
        is jagged, scraggly stone,
From him whose tempests never end, 

From him on whom it seems light has 
        never shone.