04-09-2016, 02:25 PM
Life After 30
is a sandcastle under
the fluorescent sun, and nothing
is meant to last. There is a pulse
in the waves that crash, in the hand
that creates the hologram of ocean
beneath this cellophane sky.
There is the black that I wear
to remind me never to run
from the black we face.
The flower will flash, and we
who bring sleep will awaken first.
I will rise like a great fish circling
as others sink beneath
the white light of morning,
to stand again in ever new possibility.
is a sandcastle under
the fluorescent sun, and nothing
is meant to last. There is a pulse
in the waves that crash, in the hand
that creates the hologram of ocean
beneath this cellophane sky.
There is the black that I wear
to remind me never to run
from the black we face.
The flower will flash, and we
who bring sleep will awaken first.
I will rise like a great fish circling
as others sink beneath
the white light of morning,
to stand again in ever new possibility.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson