721

Behind Me—dips Eternity—
Before Me—Immortality—
Myself—the Term between—
Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,
Dissolving into Dawn away,
Before the West begin—

’Tis Kingdoms—afterward—they say—
In perfect—pauseless Monarchy—
Whose Prince—is Son of None—
Himself—His Dateless Dynasty—
Himself—Himself diversify—
In Duplicate divine—

’Tis Miracle before Me—then—
’Tis Miracle behind—between—
A Crescent in the Sea—
With Midnight to the North of Her—
And Midnight to the South of Her—
And Maelstrom—in the Sky—

1764

The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
  The maddest noise that grows,—
The birds, they make it in the spring,
  At night’s delicious close.

Between the March and April line—
  That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
  Almost too heavenly near.

It makes us think of all the dead
  That sauntered with us here,
By separation’s sorcery
  Made cruelly more dear.

It makes us think of what we had,
  And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
  Would go and sing no more.

An ear can break a human heart
  As quickly as a spear,
We wish the ear had not a heart
  So dangerously near.

1680

Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.

She rolls along the high wires
Tightrope walkin' moon
She graces life's big circus
She is gone too soon

Huge! A glowing fairie
So luminous! So bright!
She's suspended on the ropes
The performer of the night!

I watch her intently
As she's held aloft
Then she slips toward the hills...
... she is fallin' off!

But she bows down and curtseys!
A smile on her face
She's lost not her dancer's poise,
She maintains her grace.

Finally she exits
The horizon sets the stage
She is only a faint glow
The night has turned the page.

I'll remember her with fondness
As she danced to Claire de Lune...
In her sequined tutu

Tightrope walkin' moon.


SøułSurvivør
8/26/2018

Death is tragedy, just like most things that happens in the course of one's life, for a moment it may seem that the world is at end, the next minute something pops and your joy is restored, but that's not all tomorrow is unknown still. Death might seem so much of devastation but the uncertainty of tomorrow is the greatest tragedy of all. So I've learnt to appreciate today even if it makes me cry, it's only today, tomorrow i might cry again but it's okay it never last, death is so much beautiful so much so that it may end it all and a new light revealed