I am not an island. No-- I am a continent. And you are all my countries here With war and discontent. But peace comes more than war, you see, And trade and exploration Have profited us all in turn Much more than stark invasion. Ambassadors and trumpery Accompany our visits.
Alas, my friend--the night, It fades with morning light And all we hid behind-- No longer hid from sight. Here comes the change of mind: We leave all else behind; We let the future go, And all the past we bind. And everything we know-- Decisions, undertow-- Become the former
The glassy sphere, once void, now felt by her, The smallest and least known of all mankind The aimless one, so frightened and unsure Full of scattered thoughts and undefined, She feels, she flies; she grows and tastes the tears Of age and timelessness in voids of glass. You, youngest
I peered over my glass The room was full of you The moon was high and full Your eyes were starkly blue. The coffee in my hands Was warm like summer night In crowds of souls my eyes Are drawn to you like light. You stand above the crowd Though
Who put me in your hands? Was it you? Truth speaks like a fire, But when did I lose sight Of all the stars in your palms And the galaxies under your fingernails? Your face unveils The light of nebulae, Glowing like a firefly With all the fire of a