The
Night Passes Like History
3:14
gives the only light
In
the night of my shuttered bedroom,
A
red reminder of the hours left to go.
And
though my eyes stagger with heavy-lidded sleep,
I
remain awake.
Through
the gloom,
I
peer up to where I know the ceiling is,
Letting
my thoughts meander from me.
I
muse on the days I’ve had
And
the days to come.
I
try to summon the dreams I need
And
watch lifetimes Rip van Winkling away
In
the space above me.
The
days I’ve never had
Or
will never know
Stretch
out in both directions
As
I ponder
My
wandering thoughts.
The
scenarios play far beyond
Any
logical sense of conclusion –
Civilizations
rise and fall,
Songs
are composed, loved, and forgotten,
And
worlds change hands
In
that nothing where the ceiling ought to be.
My
pupils shrink as I turn from it,
And
I’m half blinded by the same 3:14
Glaring
at me out of the blank.
