One day music struck me
And all the poetry in its bolt poured forth
Through the holes
My feelings had left open
To make space for creation;
One day seven thousand poems
Died in my skull
And from their flowers
The future was born;
One day art caught up
Reality in its wave
And like a lifting of curtains
Became the world;
One day death became
Alive for someone
Immediately reborn;
One day, a word
Was all it took
To overthrow the moment
And forever suspend
Time by a nail in a closet
As the next word fell
And we were all left
Holding hammers
(Or the longing for them)
As passing stars fell out our eyes
Alongside feelings of gold
And dust, moving fast but leaving
The brilliant wings
Of fleeting birds
Behind in our bones.
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