07 Sep In This Poem is the Secret to Immortality
Posted at 01:44h
in Poems
How little belongs to these steady hands, oh muse – oh angel!
Words belong to the skies, over transparent time’s corruption
There before our eyes, found to frolic in fruits of my induction
How much I miss my interpreter, oh tongues of fire!
Words belong to the grass, under waves of rippling barley
Lost in the harvest, gone to great gatherings of a white sea
Why did the Sphinx torment Thebes in Oedipus Rex
If only to prophecy, and proclaim a sullen hex
Unless this is the riddle, for it continues to perplex…
When did the soul lose its meaning, oh marvel of night!
Speech comes from the spirit, more than the work of hands
Immortal if you hear it, eternal echoes in empty desert sands
Where did the time sink into, oh pillar of dark!
Speech comes from the earth, less than dust under your feet
Gestating in mirth, born of black butterflies in desert heat
Why was the builder of the Ark in the Epic of Gilgamesh
Delivered in his dreams to stay awake to stave off death
Unless this is the dream, to be realized in the flesh…