Friday, June 29, 2018

Solmar Verses VII

The moon is a hard thing to step away from.
To look at its clarity from a dark nest
Is to lose the inevitable self
In the flare of its city of glass
Across the black ocean.

The games don't understand the people who play them
As kings don't understand their subjects
Except in what they do, the wishful steps 
They take from their personal void, to say
"I exist" to an indifferent sky.

To see the moon, what they desire, as only light
That displays the jeweled coldness of ocean
Is like the faithful kneeling at the gates
Waiting for the rapture that never comes
Finally sensing the slow drift of flowing mind.