The inconstant thing

The time of remembering

And of slowing in far gestures

The galaxies of your mind,

Slowing their orbits

Till they’re seen in your eyes.

Sweeping like the ocean,

Suddenly you are large,


Surrounded by night,

You become that lonely ocean

Unconfined by sunlight–

The ocean of your becoming. 

Everything slows,

Your breath comes like waves,

Steady and sure,

The certainty of your largeness,

As you bear witness to the coming of the wintery starlight

Of your slow descent into silence. 

[8/10/2015 2:06am]


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