the endless

the endless

endlessness of everything

; giant scrapes of torn cloud, ravage the horizon

eternity in a raindrop

so futile is its existence

when once it was free to fall and be

only to rise once more, only to fall once more

as giant scrapes of torn cloud, Itch!

poor heartbeats, and their endless quests

to remain visible, to remain succinct yet agonised

to separate into globs of blue ‘neath the skin of you

and me

and so form into those tiny heartfelt things we call love

See those clouds, see how they dance with stiletto grace, etching the blue

into a vision of you

the endless

never was a poet so tired!

of nothing but himself

and yet he sees those clouds and smiles

; nests of feathers, perhaps they hold my heart’s wish in a raindrop