Is it the metaphor or matador,
at the window? I stick my head
to its glass and feel the Sun turn
to rain; and think of Marduk…
Is there a gangway for gallantry?
A legitimate succession of heirs?
Sometimes, you wonder, if the stars
came around each night, to shine
their Lilliputian love at you? They may
just be thorn-pricks of deceit?! Do they
all take turns to imposter God? Like the
Sun keeps hiding its face among the Ages?
I walk into the clouds of such ephemerality…
And think of eternity! Even if the love I
created was not meant to be, what it was
meant to be…! Paradise’s fabric can still be
saved for another day, even if it is venomously
motheaten today! Children, Hark! Vehemence
and outrage can be the kindest words, when
you have all been led astray! Love is no furtive
foundry, no abashed clay, and it cannot be
battered in uncaring abattoirs! But sometimes,
your legowork must be taken apart, your
Dominos must fall! Mother, we have metaphysics
and metempsychosis at hand! Even Samson came
back to raise the Temple he destroyed in fits of rage!
The glory comes when you persist to resurrect
everything you lost!
montes-musings.blog 