A Semblance Of Eden Poem by Oleg Vorobyov

Inhabiting a perishable canopy
Wherein all tends to a point- of- no-return,
I gather: there's somewhere and something,
Some chimera, some bubble, sort of panoply,
Where to each thing is ultimately bourne.

It's not milk-honeyed place for chosen few -
It is for all, who durst to live and die:
For John, for Lee, for owl, for curfew,
For lake, for stone, for fire, and for yew, -
Evanescent and lasting there apply.

Delirium haunts, and I'm harassed by itching
To sink in my unthinkable creation
Fed on my most untoward capriccios,
Kaleidoscopic leas, plateaus, dunes, beaches,
Unreachable, yet so touchdown station.

And one can spot me staring the blankness
As if I read some prophesies unheeded -
In fashion such I handicap my chances
Pursuing hardly answerable answers:
Has my entire world slid in that seeming Eden?