Aldous Huxley

(1894-1963 / Godalming)

Points And Lines - Poem by Aldous Huxley

Instants in the quiet, small sharp stars,
Pierce my spirit with a thrust whose speed
Baffles even the grasp of time.
Oh that I might reflect them
As swiftly, as keenly as they shine.
But I am a pool of waters, summer-still,
And the stars are mirrored across me;
Those stabbing points of the sky
Turned to a thread of shaken silver,
A long fine thread.


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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 3, 2014

Poem Edited: Monday, March 3, 2014


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