HEART

You would will love into
a dead heart?
Could you will day into
night's realm?

Birches denuded of their
finery tower into
inky spaces, their bare,
spiky appendages
huddle together in still,
sombre solidarity.

This besom of your conjuring
conspires to sweep
the stars away, these dots
of light I connect
in my voiceless loneliness,
fulgent beads I
string into the truest smiles
I've ever known.

I watch, bereft as they,
as silver streams
spill into the horizon,
glistering strands
that once embroidered
the darkness, each
sparkle a spirant of hope
from the ether.

This night-shaded grain
you placed in my
heart is more capacious
than the Sun.
Paint your pictures on its
silences, your
reward for lying by omission.

Time drips through your
luminous hour
glass. Sole before her are
we equals, mother.
Her sightless tides buffet
your pale porcelain
perfection, your lure and
snare. Your craft
shall pass into her waves.

And this blackened vault,
destitute of its
lucent frame, of its bulwark,
shall crush my
being into the bowels of
inner space....
a silent implosion.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: THE STARRY NIGHT
Source: www.wikiart.org
Artist: Vincent van Gogh