Sunday, September 04, 2011

A Poem Draft

Crazy-tired. But this rough piece came to me while thinking about the Rimbaud essay I linked to in the previous post.


Why may we wish on falling stars?
The evening in their dreams
with dusky dispatch from afar
brings sleep's infernal gleams;
such beauty trails across the sky
like glints of ice aflame,
but do they not from heaven fly,
from terror of the Name?
But wait! For shall we not recall
the heart's celestial night?
The darkest gloom, the deepest black,
still radiates a light;
it leaves a glittered track.
As the way that there descends
ascends as well to newer highs,
so by their fall and foolish end
they show us how to rise.

1 comment:

  1. Brigitte10:30 AM

    You say "crazy-tired", I say: still inspired.  Thanks again.


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