Tuesday, August 17, 2010

The Solitudes of August - VI

I preach prophecy
and only birds can hear me
yet strangers air mail holy books to my door.

The hermetic scatters
like shattered glass
to the surface of the floor.

They call that "understanding"
but it's really hieroglyphics in sand
that learn new meanings.

There is room in things
for universes entire
to expand in exponentials

and form within their dominance
without so much as a touch.