The human ripple
I, beheld the Heron's eye -
stood still, a world Away.

I wish to comb the now distant Eden
Adopting Penelope's marble poise
To find her marvelling Polaris' freedom
Not questioning her heart, unlike my words.
Vaulted abaft* her marmoreal* shoulders                                      
Chiliad* tales won, your silhouette
Decorticating* off African suns.
Oil lamp explorer, icy caves your lamp
Cannot warm; There are paths to cross with will,
Verdant* bridges constellated* with time.
Yet you, Inexhaustible human heart,
Beat with love. You gravedigger of the sky,
Estranged Love, brave forevermore the Afar,
Beyond the doubts of your enduring Heart.

What say thou; sweet rains mean nothing to land -
Be its pride parched, drowning in tears, near death,
Perhaps, - no; rain will mean nothing to land.
What say thou; the wind without Easter's breath
Can reap the barley in the fall. Then reap,
Wind, what thou hath lost before. What say thee -
What, yet again? This chasm, 'tis too deep
To cross with words, to bridge with memory.
Thou means't much; say'st e'en less with words unlit -
Claim the world's brushstrokes, plant again thy means!
Cast away from Earth's polarized orbit
Stand far, stand still - hold this image for me.
What means't the sun? The light of warmth of light;
Means't the world tomorrow be not today bright?