Memory and imagination collide,

the power of

infinite creativity

unleashed

in an instant.

The ever present

Now of inspiration.

An entire universe begins,

expands in white heat;

cools, coalesces, congeals,

then collapses upon itself.

To begin again.

When art eludes
most common sense,

And truth succumbs
to tolerance;

When darkness comes,
but call it light;

When virtue’s vice,
and wicked’s right;

When good is bad
and reason ends;

When in his mind
a man suspends

The will to know
where wisdom dawns;

When age-old words,
their meanings gone,

Are without form
and void of thought;

Then no is yes,
And is, is not.

What quick-pulsed unrest
sends your shadowed form
in silent flight from sleep
to search with dark eyes,
wide with dawn-dread storm,
the spirit-feinting strewn light?

What manner of faith
do you keep tonight
with practiced hands so slight
and tender? What shards,
broken (ah, yes) dreams,
lie clear in lunate, raised palms?

Each crystalline split tells
past times, spent schemes;
as turned, light edges touch,
catch color (lost images, all that calms).
Your moonlit tears now shine such.