Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2016
who shall then dare
        dream  the    Sun  to be   a flower
or    a   new, keen city     higher than  steeples   and umbilicus of   wires
     disavowed  streets  and    herds of   proletariats?

      and   if so   then it   shall be   a flower
who   picks   itself   from the    unmoving   Earth  then what   steady light
   will     it   bring?  who  will   join it   in its   revelry  and who  shall be
    brave   with trembling  hands  to hold   it in  hand  taut   like loves
divined  and  forever   is spring   and  forever    is winter   endless with ephemeral whiteness
    and   bells    are a-ringing    and  clouds are  twitching so as to sail where
      nobody   has   ever    visited

     always    it   is   Spring
    and    in my   hand is  the  Sun   or the   florid  aureole
       burning    in my   palm   and  the moon   is my   love
            whose night   is carefully a  fraction
   of   flower placing   an inch   of sleep    in   my body,
       always   it   is  lovely
Windsor I Guadalupe Jr
Written by
Windsor I Guadalupe Jr  Bulacan
(Bulacan)   
526
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems