Stellar legacy? Astral ligature?
Either way we are connected to sky
as air and as space and as literature,
and we read, write, breathe, move, live and still die:
The night is fluid, like a darkened pond
for want of light – but vision is feeling
with sight, not seeing with the Eye, not blond
sun rays cloaking it all in meaning:
The day is the great blue, the azure sea
above, while below there is movement, grace,
passion and pavement amassed, all to be
abraded by history into trace:
Elements, residue; efficacy
of mind against thought is called heresy.
urbansonnets 