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Telescopic Introspection

Expansed in cloudless skies Afternoon's promised all A starry sacred finger. Numberless specks of light, Organized by time and weight. So condensed specks of dust - Some dialed in for sight, face up Just in time for the exhibition: Grandeur on a scaleless slate. This is the reason to rhyme. You may say "not at all" But I prefer to step and fall Into the black as though it were so close to me - to reach and stir with a hand the nebula's wisp made of things both soft and crisp hot and cold, as season's due year in and out- Still - and true Ceasing not but to amaze So flicker the Pinpoints - spots of haze Never changing - still they move Moving change - hangs still above. Only when I turn down my eye Blades of grass that live and die speak this ancient tale to me of dartling lights and infinite sea. Yet everywhere I look about and see that everywhere's about I find myself lost in oceans of one, A frozen sea that feels like the sun. Ship to ship I wish to link But having cast off my way to blink I sink (into a hue) I think (as if I have a clue) I sink (then, into blue) Out of my heady-ness there comes yawn, The same readiness that forsees a dawn, Witnessing miracles can't go on So in I meander from the lawn.
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Written by
michael-donovan
American
Published
Feb 27, 2012
Lines·Words
45·242
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