1.11.2011

Song of Words, First Movement

it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.
it reads:
We begin to paint, splash after splash
But not with brushes; and not with paint
We draw with light, each hazy gash
A point of white, a flicker faint

On come the lights, one by one by one
To reveal to us the world we've known
Under moon and star and under sun
Even in darkness that we have sown.

Flush with beauty are our lamps
Of every color, from dusk to pale
Arranged in order, in stately camps
Our ships who have yet to sail.

And our pillars once stood in dark
Now open to a spacious place
Behold O eye, and know your mark
This glimpse is gone without a trace.

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