He paced the glassy surface of new poured sea
wringing his sculptor's hands in celestial anxiety.
A nagging tug, a vexing doubt
about creation, something about creation -
something obvious and overlooked.
That single lively thread, woven
in his own image in a split second of pride.
One thread, twisting in the solar winds
unraveling slowly down the eons....
No comments:
Post a Comment