local_library My Microcosm

by Jenna Richardson

Published in Issue No. 260 ~ January, 2019

Blossoms on the great oak quiver,


As you speak.


I see your face,


You are nothing.


All fades away,


My wonder.


You are among the stars,


And the quip upon my illness.


I reach to you,


You are endless.


In a midnight sky,


Blackness surrounds me—


And envelopes you.


You spin around me,


I breathe you in.


As you extend and offer,


A branch of solemness.


Extended against a grey sky,


Another star in the universe.


Time goes by so fast,


Yet passes like wintertime’s past—


Free and wild,


Smooth as the air I inhale,


And breathe you out.


I’d wait for tomorrow,


If tomorrow had no end.


I’m chasing your star,


For, all I see is you.


You are you,


But a star.


In the night sky,


As the planets turn.


Colliding through the universe,


Careening through the atmosphere.


The branch I offer has died,


Along with my soul—


Lingering with my death.


You are a microcosm,


Spinning around me.


Forever there,


In a box.


A big picture sits,


I wait for you.


My dreams linger,


Of some higher meaning.


The Milky Way spins around me,


As I sit and dream about you.


You are in and of itself,


A mystery—


Invoking the meaning of my life.


You are dressed in nakedness,


Yet clothed in the light.


I call out for you,


The brilliant moon shines bright.


Brighter than the stars,


That shines brightly too.


A meadowlark calls,


There is more to life—more to death, than itself.


A microcosm,


Of what life and death, doth mean.