Egg

Not speckled, not brown,
but white, pure white,
and still, so still –

pregnant with potential,
an ellipse of bright,
its light is white, so white,

so blinding. I cannot
remove my eyes from
its perfect form. It binds

me to its presence, sitting
as it does, in isolation,
where I have placed it

so that it may share
its splendour with no one
but itself. So pure

in its simplicity
and its truth,
for it says nothing

and is before,
before creation,
before the opening

of the god's eye
that made the flowing-forth,
the emanation

that is all that is.

spacefree verse

♡Like0

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.