What colour would I choose
For the eyes of my night?
That first-time, last-time,
Never-to-be-seen-again time light?
That appears only when the mighty
Winds and powerful wings
Of vacuum-space and eternal time
Throw dust-and-crystal shards
At the limits of my knowledge; those
That are the too-near boundaries
Of my massive ignorance. Lucky to be
One of many sometime-intelligent observers
I am, nonetheless, very alone in this crowd.
Feted, reluctantly, as master of phrase and
Meaning, I am unable find the appropriate word:
My brain too flooded with majestic dark skies
That sparkle, shimmer and shake without sound.