Ages

Maniacal laughter echoes the halls of creation,

The evergreen alley; the tree-pillars of green

Bent under the weight of the sapphire slab

That is the sky, the Heaven-dome.

And my back aches, its joints joined by the

Vigor of the ages weaken, stiffen as the trees

Outside. Years, like leaves, are carried yon

High, where the earthly winds fan out in a play

Of sickly, pale light. Yon is Heaven, the great

House-in-the-sky, home to a family of the dead,

The lifeless, the loveless web-spinners of faith.

Time, the wild-tempered sea, breaks itself

Against the clad-granite monolith of eternity.

Foam of ages grips at the basin of the pillars

Of Heaven; the salt-teeth grind against the

Bedrock. The faithful scream, their voices

In mad waves of sound crash down into the

Earth. Here now bloom sickly flowers and

Dead trees; the evergreen dry leaves sail the

Dry winds. Heaven spills into time’s ocean;

The eternity, eaten away like a tattered cloth,

Is at once forgotten. The joints of my spine

At once are undone - the stiffness of ages,

The soul, escapes my body, is lost in the woods.

I lay, shattered; time spins the wheel, and

Tomorrow, I reckon, here where I lay shall grow

Another evergreen.