Nocturnal
written by: C.R. Daugherty
In silence of the night fleet palpable the song of the nightingale
Who knows the balance of the cosmos, perhaps bias if neutral
If ever alchymically there were a beginning to peak
And rend to echoes of dust what we dub nature cold and old
Compartmentalized cabinets construing the nature of themselves
A compass be the parallel and nebulous rumble of universal thunder
Many lonesome, lost, and wandering throngs bound by stone, by ourselves
This ring of fire beside me a candle; the moon lights my muse the night
The sky vast and perhaps endless while we a-ground undertow
An eternally blossoming celestial sea some say the gods knew
This raven cries out to us in dreams of curiosity piqued
We wonder what glows beyond white giants emboldened in sable folds
Waves rivulet and tremble like hair falling from our planet’s widows’ peak
We love our Esperanto home which hates and kills itself
Seeking to the void for love of God be here the heavens under
Our luminaries of heir and heroism are beknighted
What nostalgic rumination sobs the loss of tradition to hold
But to dread a premise of death to us anew
The ecclesiastical and epistemological draws a moral noose
Lending unto order of chaos, around, above, and under
The yawn of dawn awakened to light from quiet night
Paradisio birds their flight to the heavens bespeak
Many hearts enfold and bring with reticent gold
For to keep within hungry families lining their shelves
Flicker the flames enveloping empyreal moons underneath
This mysteriously expanding, breathing moonlit night
For in all its magnanimous glory never grows old
As we tiny animate chambers face the cliffside of evolutionary peaks
Reconstituting wooden tines into a book which lines the shelf
Dog and butterfly dancing in harmony forever newly
To ponder whether there is an end or beginning to get old
We may enjoy from our nighttime roosts the night
In gales of cicada song, firefly hum, albedo alpine peaks
Forever awaits the future, a quantum presence so
Tallying up the ledgers of past records on our shelves
To be torn by revolution of epoch and cosmo thunder
A new day rises and returns to soothing night
The old breakaway satellite culminates in peak of harmony
And we hold within ourselves our own lambent thunder
- 88 Quatrain Verse on Poetics - February 20, 2023
- Why Bye Color - October 14, 2022
- Ariel, Bless Us - April 22, 2022
