Saturday, April 19, 2014

How the unborn exist


How the unborn exist
as surely as your own now gone,

sparkling in dreams
and firelight,

drifting free
as butterflies,

calling you
from doorways,

inhabiting
willows,

minding
tales untold,

as real in myth
as any you’ve known,

how, on mornings like this,
they return, and the veil is gone.



2 comments:

Jonathan Chant said...

Extraordinarily beautiful, William. And the ironical thing is I have just been taking another turn through Tristram Shandy where the opening pages are, as you know, very much concerned with the lives of the unborn. Hope all is well,

Jonathan.

William Michaelian said...

All is well, Jonathan, and I thank you. It’s been some time since I’ve revisted those delightful pages. But I always take comfort in the knowledge that the Tristrapedia is still not done.