Saturday, April 30, 2016


* * *

A Poem About Endings

We built towers to the clouds
That were bright against the blue.
They were monuments
To promises made
In our dreams.
We thought they would
Withstand the rising seas,
The wind,
And the icy gale;
But they failed the test
Of sunlight
Which made plain how
Our plumb line was not true,
The foundation was sand,
And the design was flawed.
Our towers melted into vapor
And scattered
Like a haze of white moths
In a tempest.
Leaving us to scrounge
Through the shambles
Has the Maker-Of-Clouds
Forbidden us there?
Or has He a passage
Not found in
Our designs for towers?

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(c) Adron Dozat 4/30/16

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