CROOKED ONE
.
Naked and moist am I
Burning with stars.
A sickle swept low
Severing chance.
Tongues silenced
Their excuses full,
The stories tedious,
Revealed as smoke.
One deep dark eye
That measures worth
Unblinking.
I bend slow and low
Gathering up and binding.
The web tied and untied
Between all things
That tastes of poetry
But is seed and blood.
Unmannered, hungry,
The world shall taste it
And be changed forever
We demean ourselves with pretty gods.
Lessen the glory of the pulse of life.
Fail to stretch beyond the familiar,
Discard the chance for conflagration.
A passionate average, a mean measurement,
A judicial lack of vision.
The wild world dances,
So we turn away to sink
To meagre cooling gruel from yesterday.
.
I like this Simon. It sings a plaintive song.
Thanks, Bonnie!