It’s splintered
from where I placed it
it broke off into thin sparks
strings ten thousand strong
a leaping song
like a doe dodging a god
a feathered arrow
it struck and plundered
my variable heart
I rested it awhile
somnolent, forgetful
perceived by no one
then it flew
it flew away from me
it flew towards me
it twirled and hooped
it broke off into strips of shining
eloped into the sun
flanked the mountain
my severed sharpness
I forgot, I slept, I dreamed
lakes of language
then it grew
it grew a sail and travelled
a shield of talking
a scroll unravelled
a round thing, a lined thing,
a rolling, a stasis, a sweeping
inside it blossomed, outside it stretched
clever and roaming
a fine thing
a weeping.

Poetry - Christos Sakellaridis
Piano - Lucas Agelinas
Image Es werde Licht - Hans Thoma 1884

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