This
scissor’d century,
Ribboned
and strewn between the wars
Where
I was born, wrung from ancience’ youth
To
crawl fist-first along the paralleled
Instant
of my mortal toil:
An
accidental hero -
I
lassoed the thief that stole the sun -
Who
walks with clouded steps
Along
the path of wind between the ends
Of
time to find the hour of our inception;
Meteoric
and monumental moment
When
prospered faith, spring prevailed.
The
famine from creation’s fruit
Died
its eunuch death.
The
oceans of my birth,
Crystal-crested
by the eternal eye
Of
Dawn’s omnipotent consecration;
The
flooding force of her burning pupil
That
in a madman’s act I held,
Then
felled the tree that gave me shade –
A
half-truth; a whole lie.
