An eon is just a moment for a spinning rock
Harnessed to an angry pyre a half a breath away
Both huddling together like frightened sheep
On a vast vista bereft of all but trembling grass
A vagrant tilt sends angled light to bathe the stone
In vivid rays of animating warmth.
A tilt with just a rumor’s nudge would cleanse
The sphere of all that breathes and moves against
The rhythm of tense random noise
Just a celestial inch and music’s silent
So is observation and the clash of arms.
When winter’s wit also aligns
As force fades into comprehension’s crook
A picture styled by repetition’s muse
Alights on memory’s confused depictions
And fear’s fascination fails.
A heart is just a wanton cane at best
Its needs are settled with a dash of rest
The fire’s in the sky not within our breast
What wild wing’d reptile comes at whose behest?
To try the temper like a foolish test?
The stars will dim
The void will cool
Disputes are fuel for folly’s maw
The tilt will topple and the foolish fall.