The small, luminescent body of a child
trailed, supine, upwards through the night air
like a single glowing tear,
to be embraced by all that is above –
moonbeam and starglow, cloud-pillows and wind-breaths,
a thousand murmuring voices like ocean foams
caressing the limbs.

Melted gold dripped off
palace domes, marble limbs of muscle
ripped from uprooted torsos, paintings
snapped in halves, their craftsman
frames fueled the flames that
cradled and cracked the world.

Crimson fountains burst forth ceaselessly –
veins and bullets were abundant.
Ivory towers crumbled.

The child, sleeping, carried the souls of poets
who flirted with Beauty in streetside cafes, insomniacs
who distilled starlight in libraries, savorers,
creators, seers, lovers, floundering in the night,
tenderness of music…
Farewell…

The ashes of the Earth
fell away without a sound.

When the child awoke, words flowed,
waves of beauty crashed
on the shore of eternity.