I am a tattered sheet
of human parchment,
nailed to the gnarled
and elephantine tree-trunk
None shall ever know
all that I am.
As the feathery cloak of night
calms these floundering eyes
my aching heart
becomes a skylight
each thought lurching high above
the trampoline of my mind.
I am a sliver of sunlight
dancing into a prison cell.
I am the crunch of leaves
under a prowling moon.
The heart-noise I make
sounds like a squadron of crabs
skittering across a neon sidewalk.
I am a cracked anvil vectoring through
the hollow space between the stars.
I speak only in the black language
of galactic reconstruction.
From a billion swirling springtimes
I burst forth with riotous effervescence,
the culmination of countless supernovae.
For eons I hibernated
inside the cavernous belly
of a stellar nursery.
crushed into heavier atomic configuration
by the brutal jaws of gravity,
I surf the blast wave,
barreling wildly into the expanding unknown.