Some days I stand beyond myself and see,
through swirling mists, a destination sought;
an island split from mainland certainty
by seas that isolate my powers of thought.
This island is myself, a no-man’s land
between the warring elements of doubt
and faith; a granite outcrop in the sand
that builds a bar to keep all others out.
Perhaps a causeway could be built between
the mainland mass and island Mandelbrot
that splits the fractal essence from obscene
routines of daily life, and one that’s got
the screwpile jetty strength to span my mind
with planks to join my dreams to all mankind.