Tuesday, December 25, 2012
A Gesture Of The Night
In a gesture roundly followed, I look to the horizon,
As it always affronts us like the shortness of humans;
My outermost belief of this background joy has been
My crisis and light, in times of questions and doubts.
The books are even nearer brushing with solidity,
The sun has broken the new paper and made old,
The stars below the stars are like the stars.
Her feeble nature invites the stripped worms
And they roundly sit with earned faces,
Looking into the life around them with responsibility,
But however much they astound their own intellect
They prey on their kin and kittens, those faithful
Into the night, into the decamped existence.