.
If our eyes
Should latch
Whilst pretending
To gaze unconcerned,
On some inconsequential street
Into days with sun and rainbows,
Dandy as lions on fields of praise,
Magical in bluish skies, mysterious
As eyes grasping without guile nor plan
Nor pains, then we might love as birds low,
Sing above, then we might truly be, become
Alive in the light of another lone, pining star
Under the infinite, shining, unruly heavens.