Hi Johan. Well yes I understand what you are referring to – I was there as well. Life is deemed to be an illusion by many metaphysics and New Agers and Occult minded where this `understanding` originated from. I also subscribe to this fundamental view although it could also be an illusion in some way. It is a very interesting concept though. Should you want to find your Key? Beware you seek Truth and that can be very elusive as well. Many Truths are wrapped up in illusions just to keep you looking. Visit Exclusive Books and Fascination Books and look and ask around for that `Inner Child` and `Who am I?` themes that is floating around by their millions and you shall find. Nice strong poem. I like it very much. Keep looking. I found my answers only after many yeas of treading where no angels dared go but I got there eventually. A bit scarred and torn but was well worth it. Groetnis Joachim.
You've got such flow going that the "mystery" of meaning pulls me as the reader toward the key hole to peek inside your thoughts. Who among us has not wished for wisdom beyond our own! You know I'm a fan of your writing and the fact that you leave me pondering makes this one a most compelling poem. Sharon
This is short and lovely, with a nice flow and good rhyme. I too don't really know what it is about. Nothing that I can pinpoint exactly, but I keep coming back to it, so that means you did something right:)
This is mysterious, and perhaps that is part of the plot. It is a delightful rhyming tale, and I superimpose my guess that the key is guidance or direction to one who has lost his way or gone astray. In my alcoholic days, I can remember days like this (please help me find my keys then help me find my car)!
I honestly have no idea what this is about, yet I feel connected to it in some strange way. The wording is perfect, mysterious and yet applicable to so many things it almost seems obvious if you were in my head.
The idea of chimera, of differing genetics creating a confusion of identity, so that the master of illusion has forgotten himself. Is he whole or separate? It's like begging to remember, to feel the assuredness of knowing who you are, making the mistake of thinking someone else could provide it.
And maybe it's just the average person, struggling to find identity, the one thing that makes us feel complete.
Submission Name: Gone astray 
