Strange Joy

Strange are the thoughts you give to me,
And stranger still what I now truly see.
How truly strange was this world to me, but
A mere shadow, a stranger whom I cut
By the many practices I held. Strange
That now the very thing I once held strange,
Should cause me to rethink thoughts, estrange my
Person from evils once followed, change. Strange
Is this that now these very same strange thoughts
Now make what I held true seem stranger still!
Could it be by some strange chance that my will
Has become pierced by strange eyes? A lance, shrill
In pain and and strange sorrow, makes me prance
About in wondrous joy! Strange thoughts dance
in my head such as this, borrowed strangers
Eyes do make me think in a strange manner.
Yet though all these strange oddities be here,
In the midst of strangeness I lost my fear!

                                                                     Strange Joy, (c) Luke Bennette, April 2012