to heal a vacant heaven -
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the gods …
awoke early that day
for the sun had swallowed the moon
and left a ragged, gaping wound in the sky …
it bled darkness like cold oil
threatening to stain
all that they had labored to create
not the least of which -
humankind -
had yet to suck a breath
or betray their common senses
but …
what of Byzantium, they pondered?
the horizon still ached for sails
but to weave an empty sky was doom
even for the regal bateaux of Valhalla -
‘breach the canopy’, they thought
sew the temporal seam with
threads of divine intent ...
net the stars like silver herring and
bind them to the gunwales, en masse -
grave the hulls on the cosmos
and set the sextant to unholy dreams ...
the day be damned
it would end nonetheless
and tomorrow would
still come ...
sail on!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Standard Contest Number 145 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
This poem did NOT place in the "A Contest About a Goddess or God - Not THE God" Poetry Contest.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2018
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