Hieroglyph 17

Hieroglyph 17

The conclusions I draw here are of the smallest value
And between wind and stone the heart of matter is not revealed
I have become the distant logos
And the voice of all this world's supreme inconsequence
And while the days succeed each other
I brood on their pale replications
Speaking at last to only the insentient waters
And waking from my dreamless sleep
Alone here
While the stars commune in silence.

Previously Published

© John A. Youril