The Wake

Conceivably, inevitably, regrettably a notion…
Ambers, lusting, elongation and implosion
I burned the wretched city to ash
Sought lastly and callously a world.
A new earth.
Fell through the sky on my back
Landing and wandering by, by foot to seek for potion.

First met a beggar, poorest of tribe
I know who’ll take you to the window in the sky too high to scribe
His legend, he spoke.
To sparrow’s nest, a sit in smoke.
A plan.
The seeds.
Empirically a tree to match the sun.
A watershed vice of onward eyes I spun and climbed the pine.

Crusted, darkened, blood and bark neath battered nails apart,
Upon the tree my solace silking in the growing scene.
A setting sun, on seas of cloud, spilling colors entwined,
Glazed nectorate flowering pigmentations in my mind.
Euphoric climax.
The window.
And from this scene I fell to earth,
From birth was sought as dream of worth.