Neville

Cusp

Cusp

 

Think not of mustard seeds

My love

But yet of tiny

Grains of sand

Each one

Insignificant as the next

And vying

With those ever close

Tho shifting neighbours

Eroding on

An infinite beach somewhere

 

Just think my love

But once

All these did serve

The very heart and soul and pulse

Of ancient weathered mountains

Indeed upon the very beach

On which we now stand

So very naked holding hands

 

Yet restless neighbours

Such as these

Washed by tireless waves

And pounded

Caress the fragile

Fractured spines

Of flying fish and flightless birds

Piled high as carelessly  

Discarded and

Misdirected whispers

 

Those lost in salt and sun

Bleached beards of oh’

So many demigods and

Reckless too

Such is the madness

Of our fleeting youth

Indeed of Hebe herself

And all her sisters

And all such universal truths

Today tho while

We are busy shaping history

Tomorrow reigns uncertain