1 bless it is, the exhaustion from creation,
a man-made dilemma, turned omnipotent on hands of degradation
2 you who have nothing left, not the sun, nor the moon, not the river, nor the seas; only the tangible taste of the afternoon
3 left with a plight only for those who have thought,
here are the senses from nature, borrowed and wrought:
4 from the rotundity of stars to the curling veins of vines, from the clinging of tendrils to the sharp, feral zest of wine
5 there is grass that trembles, and flowers that bloom; so much to behold, and even more to assume.
Apr 25
Apr 25, 2026 at 4:51 PM UTC
1 bless it is, the exhaustion from creation,
a man-made dilemma, turned omnipotent on hands of degradation
2 you who have nothing left, not the sun, nor the moon, not the river, nor the seas; only the tangible taste of the afternoon
3 left with a plight only for those who have thought,
here are the senses from nature, borrowed and wrought:
4 from the rotundity of stars to the curling veins of vines, from the clinging of tendrils to the sharp, feral zest of wine
5 there is grass that trembles, and flowers that bloom; so much to behold, and even more to assume.
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