Day Twenty-Four: Outside Experience

I forgot to ask you “Why?” before

you took my hand and

broke the sky.

And though the sky goes to infinity,

you never took me farther than

we could see.

Below us lay a looming light: the sun! such a fixture once,

but from above seems just

a light.

To our left, an embrace of shadow, and we dallied:

though the moon still seems mysterious,

not from distance but

from barrenness.

I don’t know if you noticed, but the stars are the pinpoints of my interest,

Who lost their light at my behest,

or flicker in the night, all for the best (though I know you took it grudgingly)

for my earthly moon and listening stars’ sweet intent:

(at least when the darkness touches parchment)

for there never was much to write about light,

nor about the suffocating lack in black.

But these objects we study,

Caught between us, the question, and my answer,

will never come in time but only in

your hand in mine, where you hung

us high upon the ground, the highest,

where so many merely lie.