POETRY

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The Thought

When once— in the silent fall of night,
As the dew rose to meet the sky,
And the stars lay strewn
Across an empty universe—
A single thought erupted
Clasping its chains around the breath of my soul,

I passed through a door
That forever shut behind me.
And the thought burned brightly,
A candle-flame enraged by the slightest whisper.
It writhed and hissed and licked the air.
Kind to the eye, but cruel to the skin…
Monuments to the thought rose in my mind,
I crucified it.
Deified it.
I made it my center
And embraced it as my child.
The thought grew stronger
And rolled across my skies,
Pregnant with a burgeoning storm…
Dragging shadows across my windows
And obscuring my light.
And it grew bigger than me
And bigger than life
And pounded my temples
Like the gavel of God
And roared like a lion in my night…
Then, ignited by the lightning
That marked its violent birth,
The thought burst open
And cast away a rain
That gathered in the deepest,
Farthest corners of my self.
No longer did I think, but felt,
And my heart unfolded like a flower.