Eclipse
Published in
Apr 27, 2021
The sun is behind the clouds,
the moon hidden by trees and its own pale reflection
in countless pools of water.
The Self is eclipsed by thought,
and the myriad private worlds
it brings into being.
Birds and wind hold space for the essential
and each one rushes about holding notions
of great importance their headstones
will never recount, none of it real.
Poets and tides call us to account
while rivers carry the one human story
we call Self, which travels inexorably
yet is the same at source and mouth
as finally, so are we.
COPYRIGHT Simon Heathcote
