Blessed be this time and all times

when you picked up a stone on your path –

this black one, white-speckled-


and swallowed it so that it rests

like ice or a fist curled on your heart

that feels like a sullen sky


emptied of a cut-out patch

fallen into a darkened field

where you stood still like stone


as around you the world spins

in time to a music you have forgotten

or do not remember ever knowing –


these times, sad times, times

with spaces, alone and lonely times,

when you were as a snail


creeping across the open path,

trailing silver, bearing your beautiful burden

and blazing infinity on your back.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s