Lament (O how all things are far removed)

 O how all things are far removed
and long have passed away.

I do believe the star,
whose light my face reflects,
is dead and has been so
for many thousand years.


I had a vision of a passing boat
and heard some voices saying disquieting things.

I heard a clock strike in some distant house.
.
.

but in which house?.
.
.


I long to quiet my anxious heart
and stand beneath the sky's immensity.

I long to pray.
.
.

And one of all the stars
must still exist.

I do believe that I would know
which one alone
endured,
and which like a white city stands
at the ray's end shining in the heavens.

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