Not the Sky

02 June 2026

https://poems.culturing.net/2026/06/02/not-the-sky/

I called to you across the stars.
Who answered? All of me answered,
even the parts I despised. I now find
my own life, and I'll cherish it
even if I must see with my own eyes
how pain answers and sprouts from the earth
in all lives. I take off my disguise,
and I sing here half mad but at least
fully human, and therefore less mad than those civilized
beyond any point of return, to the center,
the origin of life. Who cries? Who calls
now hearing my song? Some wild babe
half asleep, in search of some manger
to occupy, next to the animals, free from mankind
and its silly demands. But the kettle is empty,
the stores have run dry, and who feeds us?
Who keeps out the wind? Not the sky!