Each Moment Is a Word of Glass

Music: Fugue #22 from the Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 2. By J.S. Bach. Sequenced by Yo Tomita.

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Alpha List Philosophical Poems About This Site Poems for Free Copyright by Nicholas Gordon

Each moment is a word of glass; Each life, within a bubble sealed. No pleasure save what one has said, No love save self in glass concealed. How shall we gaze like fiery stars Upon this gallery of breath? One says only what one is; There is no rostrum beyond death. Speak, then, of dancing particles Within the curvature of eyes, And with equations sow the seeds Upon which data crystallize; While in the forests lovers gleam Like whispers on a moonlit stream.