A Comets Tale Poem by Bill Cantrell

Shall I reveal my footsteps?
Oh, if only you knew
I will whisper in the night,
While passing by,
Things too wondrous for you to conceive
For I am a poem of long ago
From the foundry of the most high,
I was but a shaving on his workshop floor
In the hearing of words that cannot be conveyed,
I took flight
Having witnessed countless dawns,
In numerous dimensions,
Reflections being connected to the fabric of time itself
While hot, they were hammered,
Then took on form
Tempered with the dewdrops of life,
They stood erect and started to sing
And I?
I am but hot flint glowing in the night
Yes, this is my lot in life,
And I am overjoyed to have been useful
I have beheld sights of which your eyes are not prepared to see
Having been granted passage through various dreams of vision,
And I must tell you,
There are cups that you shall drink from,
Each in its own season,
Each when you are ready
Yes, just a whisper in the night,
While passing by