sometimes the god
would fold his wings
                  kenneth slessor*

sometimes...
the god would,
fold his wings,
so as
to look less
terrible...

for when,
he stood,
with wings
outstretched,
spanning the heavens
width,
the strain...
of holding the stars
aloft
would show upon his
face,

a grimace of agony,
would crease and mar
perfection's smile.

so, sometimes
he, the god of,
heavenly light,
would fold his wings
and close his eyes,

so as not to see
the stars,
fall from the skies
and the dark night
encompass the world....

at these times
he chose, to be deaf
to the cries...
of the lesser beings,
as he rested from
the weight of might...

then resolute
he, the god,
of heavenly light
would stretch out his wings
of a mottled indigo hue, gather up
the stars and begin anew...

for what else is a,
god to do?...