The 23 1/2 Degree Tilt

How small and pitied am I in front of your beauty
and your magnificence in its entirety!
Though I must not be the first to pen my heart in your praise,
I must not let these words that you bequeathed me, go to waste.
However it is forgiveness I seek
as I cannot match the great poets that you breathe.
But if my impact lasts even a minuscule of the multitude of your days,
I shall be obliged to your kindness, regard myself a brave.

There is nothing I could donate to applaud your breathtaking sight:
Nothing near me or in outer space that isn’t your kind!
Bound the blazing core, a blue heaven with clouds sprinkled light
arouse my wonder and my voice on many a starry nights.
Your year long show that ends with a bow or a tilt
gifts us Time the conqueror, and seasons that aren’t still!
Some days I’m too proud of my ability
and throw you at the mercy of my desires and needs;
think my science, my research and figures – they all speak for me:
How is that possible when I’ve not lived a second of your immortality!

Forgive my friends and the pollution they bring
to the flutter in the leaves and in the butterfly’s wings,
the happy innocence that are the eyes of a kid,
a hundred and eighteen unique things.
And as you turn graciously in a vast black sea,
along with the lesser heavenly beings in wondrous harmony,
they’ll argue for petty benefits and toil mercilessly
until tools are dropped and eyes open to the beauty
of learning to disagree harmlessly,
staring at the wind, colors, oceans and bees,
and for loving you as far as their eyes can see,
and for loving you as long as their eyes can see.

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John Prophet



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