Beside the
moon his frightened, banished guest
scrawled
symbols on the sky to soothe her soul,
dreamed of
the worm that swallows itself whole–
the worm
that grew within her troubled breast.
She cried
out to the dark: “Please grant me rest
and coin to
pay the weary traveller’s toll;
for every
new beginning is a goal,
and every
journey puts us to the test.
Give me a
place to stand and, by your leave,
like
Archimedes I would bend my back
to shape
the cosmos as it slowly cools–
a circlet
of the heavens I should weave,
a diadem of
fire upon the black–
if I had
time and all the proper tools.”
RJT
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