Learning impaired, I smile and say “yes” to the cluttered

sounds that fell mysteriously from a person dressed up.


A young man appears in my room and I ask, “Who are you?”

His blurred face suggests surprise, then pain.

“What do you want?” I ask.

He moves his face a little closer,

saying “Dad, it’s me.”


The treasure is close, I know.

Enlightenment is within my reach,

but my mind has lost its grasp.


This is what it is like.


I am standing at a cliff’s edge,

feeling a breeze of warm air,

but I have lost my sight to a stroke.

I hear a bird’s call.

What kind of bird is it?

I step forward and hope.


This is what it is like.


The great treasure is near, I know,

the treasure that is so priceless

it cannot even be named. 

I seek it in my helpless mind,

the treasure I shall find.


This is what it is like.


It is not a map that is lost.

Not a clue to be solved.

It is a problem of dysmentia.

The treasure is the fragrance

of a gardenia on my table,

and I do not smell it.


This is what it is like.


            --- John Manimas Medeiros, November 2012

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