George Burns
Beautiful Black Waves
And will I let these broken pieces fall?
The black lacquer vase
with the white crane
ascending the starry heavens
my father brought from Japan
my mother kept on the shelf?
Will I let these broken pieces fall?
I hear black lacquer waves
breaking
see black lacquer waves gleaming
in the moon’s soft light
piles of broken black petals pool around her feet.
my hands reaching for them.
Blessed Be the Small Things
Blessed be the zircon crystals that were born in lava
lakes when the earth belonged to Hades, they have
lain sleeping in their chambers under continents,
their atomic clocks ticking for billions of years.
Blessed be the newborn's foot that is as silky as a lily
and has yet to take the first step of the millions it
will walk on its journey.
Blessed be a woman's ovaries that have brought each
generation orth for thousands and thousands
of years.
Blessed be the millions of spermatozoa in each
ejaculate for only one can be fulfilled in its
ambition.
Blessed be the hadrons, the mesons, the quarks and
anti-quarks with all their charms.
Blessed be the lonely electrons swarming in their vast
space that will never touch another of their kind.
And blessed be the emptiness which swallows universes
and is still emptiness.
And blessed be the humans that stand on a brief knife's
edge and do not know it.
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