I can see
the sun on the other side of the woods,
After the
leaves fall, a growing flame,
Hidden for
most of the year, draws a thin red line
Behind the
tree trunks and as the night-sea crossing ends
Curls up and
stares from low on the horizon
Into the
windows (another version of yesterday’s light),
Red-eyed
from a long unblinking night,
The solar
wind casts shadows and polishes the walls with
Fleeting
hand-glass images that disappear without a trace.
Tempting in
its full-crested rise of hope,
To see all and
to know all at the day’s break,
There is no
Faustian bargain; only illusion reigns;
Omniscience
hides behind a wall of light,
Behind trees
of knowledge,
I see no
more than a glimpse of all there is.
Dark hours
and dreams vanish, forgotten.
The sun
climbs trees in gusts of color,
Pen and pastel
pencil ends sharpen the day,
Stream
through blank spaces, yet
I know no more
than I did yesterday
Even though
I can see the sun rise
On the other
side of the woods
After the
leaves fall.
© cmheuer,
2015
