by Steve king
©2020
All rights reserved
I trace the word, it becomes real
I breathe it to the world
and it is me
as a wind
sounding to the vaults of the earth
to stir a light within my every sense
I say and it is so
embracing now the distant things
even to the sun
brings them now to me
and I will now possess one meaning more
Dark air excites
and the quelled leaves
and the grasses
Each stone on the mountain
pebbles in the valley
waters will not then be still
I cannot know and will not care
who else may feel or see or know
or who would scoff or smile sly
And do not shrink from declination
or designs of their desires
How may I shrink from a new truth
the truth’s effect
the truth’s intent
that keeps me for an object
the light of truth
the truth of light
that even lamps the catacomb
that shall inscribe the stars
