Monday, December 8, 2008

O, Sky

O sky,
in your bleak might
I watch you aloft as a bird,
big as a planet,
soft as a feather,
colder than a mountaintop.

In my tiny woes I struggle
while you move on unhindered,
unfettered by desire,
unmoved by sorrow.

But won't you rain
something else on me,
drop from your great height
manna from heaven,
some manner of sustenance;

anything to cheer me
and lift from my being
this burden of desire
for one unattainable,
the strain of my fixation.

Or please, if there be mercy,
part just a moment's time
and kindly warm me,
letting cold sun shine.

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