Poem: Balance

 

Balance

 

to lie in the half-damp grass

was to both die and resurrect;

to feel the lissome blades 

as they burst into a funeral pyre of stars.

 

i would go up into heaven

and my dreams could stay forever;

and yet time always latched on again, always,

furious as a circling moth.

 

so many rhythmic ecstasies,

choirs of crickets, cowled by night;

but the world was changing,

coin by coin, wire by wire.

 

it was the only vision that came to me,

and i knew i had to go back with it, into the city,

to serve as witness and fool

among those who would not care.

 

i would a need a tragic yet open heart, i feared,

to dwell in the midst of so much suffering--

the blind, the sacrificed, the sadists--

and remember how to balance.

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9/24 ... quite a few mods