We are worship, every single one of us
a lifelong sacrifice to the Lord of Loss –
& if the gods pry the soul from flesh & bone
I know not for sure & I am not alone.
Yet there is Eternity in the Now
which ever we need navigate – somehow
afloat on tynes & between altered states:
the feeling of matter divorced from its shape.
& light does something odd to Time,
crossing Infinites in one leap.
Without the eye I’ve seen a clime,
a country full of us lost sheep
& the tune we sang was not
music, not grief, not the waves
of radio static, not
old Solomon’s nor Dave’s –
but the song of the spheres.



