The Funeral

I lie to you,

This is so.

For as soon as I call out the muse for her disappearance, she trails by, long enough to grasp at stars.

Here,

I wrote this for you.

It is the sky,

Deep and enveloped in itself,

That bends swiftly to kiss the tilting earth,

Two bodies that work alone,

Work together.

-

Without earth, no one to admire sky,

And without sky, no one for earth.

A mirror made for two halves of a whole.

-

And like the broad-winged birds, blackened silk feathers ruffled,

In flight,

Is the night sky, chilled and shivering,

It's own silken feathers puffed up by breezes,

The kisses from the earth.

-

And this bird-like shadow,

Wings engulfing lands and seas, swathed in

Black velvet, cool and deep.

-

Stars are the eyes of the broken down birds, as they whir

All across the heavenly dome,

Gleaming with the trickery of nighttime, of birds.

-

Earth - lands and seas - lies flat.

Blows zephyrs, upwards, moves the stars,

Gives the wings the currents to loft upon.

-

So dizzingly high, from the ground are the night-winged,

Star-eyed little birds,

All part of this master bird,

Who swoops and bends and glides,

Catches mouthfuls of currents.

-

And I, here,

The observer,

I see all the birds move en masse,

Across sky and domed heaven.

And their twinkle-eyes and dark, deep wings

Threaten to swallow all,

-

As they make up this writhing ceiling that caps the earth off from what lies beyond.

These mysterious night birds,

With beaks and faces unseen,

Just beating wings,

One and all of them, together.

And eyes that jest and glint

As they capture light from somewhere far.

-

All halves of wholes

And parts of many.

As they dance and sway and move,

And the earth's cold breaths push them left, right,

Make all the birds erupt into cackles,

As they flay far beyond,

-

Before being engulfed in the sunrise.

The stanza breaks probably won't show up, per usual...