The great question is where does he go, and what does he do?
To secret rooms he steals away,
Where no one sees and none can know
What silent concourse leads astray
From normal going to and fro.
So goes the first stanza of this week’s original, unpublished Cloudburst Syndicated Poem, “The Secret Man.” To find out more about him — you missed the poem sent out by email today — you’ll have to ask sweetly. I’ll be kind enough to forward you a copy of of the email. (To avoid such future embarrassment, sign up HERE, now, for free.)
The last stanza echoes Hebrews 11:6, for those who might not have caught it.
In the poem, “man” is used generically, of course, since I do not adhere to a feminist agenda nor support politically correct language revision. I do my best to keep them from messing with my head, and most certainly, with my mother tongue, er, parent tongue.