On opal moons the werewolves call
Beside some haunted amber stream,
Their mighty chests they rise and fall
Above this palisade of dream.
On dim horizons of these moons
Abandoned worlds each dusk will ride,
While Sirens sing enchanted runes
Where noved suns swarm in a tide.
Past Saturn’s rings the ghost ships veer
Among the comets where they leap
Then in the daylight disappear
Beyond stupendous walls of sleep.
The Time Stream flows from span to span
Between the dwarf stars like an aisle
And ever since long Time began
Flows like some otherworldly Nile.
|