measure and jesture
your upcoming triumph
but keep closed your
fallen rocks and passions
casting so wide and
discordant that makes
galaxies small and
meaninglessness so strong
along the lumbering path stop and realize
the mix and measure is
so slowly turning
writhing in long vacant moments
why do we stand while our thoughts collapse
into our firm fixed places
that mystery and magic
just lie about like fallen leaves
blown free from the grip of eternity....