Climbing

Climbing Climbing The night towards The Ramparts of Fire: They scald Yet such is Night’s desire! A Statue Over the Heaven’s Panorama looms Great and unmoving: The doves below it White And rest Dreaming. The scent Of the sub-conscious Everywhere It lies It hies And moves as a serpent New liberated from the Lair That held it unjust captive Of the stars. Now the forges where The verses are blown And heated Cool a little And further cool little By little Out! Out! Into the open! Into the woods and the Dark infested Champaign Scent Scent Scent everywhere Still A Statue Over the Heaven’s Panorama looms Great and unmoving: The doves below it White And rest Dreaming.