You think you can just dive into the sky,
Wake up bluebells with a sunny smile,
Explode like a nebula, devour light like a black hole.
You think, just because you are motionless,
Time falls through you,
And your imagination has the reach of God.
You think, whirling like a meteorite towards death,
Incandescent with the loveliness of an April morning,
You can, even for a moment, be eternal.
You think that just because you can think these things,
You can be these things, that poetry is truth,
And that you, tiny insignificant you, can just dive into the sky.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.