The lizard runs along the step
And it stops. The sides of its Head pulse, and every time Pulse with invisible benefits. There is the sense of touch And beyond that sense the sense Of God. That is the strongest, Timeless, most intense, It is more than sapience, More than each appurtenance Of life. The urge for rain gods, Luck, spells, inconsequence, From a hut with a shrunken head, The slavery to wind and sun, Until it splits into worms Spawning on a skeleton, The remnants of a life That ceased, the crawling Explosion of impulses seething, Seeking, flaming, brawling.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Yaacov David Shulman
Archives
October 2019
Categories |