A Drop of Dawn in an Ocean Full of Grief

In the bubbling emptiness, that cauldron with its swirling mass, 

Thick with all the sticky nonsense of phrases and dried skins, 

With the long spoon turning by the pointed hat-
Smokes and bangs, bubbles and noxiousness 

And it is the day I lived on the edge,
Just inside what knowledge I knew, 

Tomorrow was a day I saw once too many; 

A timeless stretch of ageing eternity,
A yesterday I never lived 

I sit on my bed with my head in my palms, 

Like a heavy sack of gold passed down to me; 

Heirloom worth a large night
Costing many sleeps wrapped into one- 

Thoughts are heavy things, such heaviness 

Bestowed on the unfortunate fellow, 

But a pair- the thought and the gift,
After all, it's the thought that matters- 

That unfortunate fellow with eyes that 

Pierce through the overlying thickness, 

Embellishments of properness and whatises 

In the day I lived, I looked back on the day I didn't, 

Clock skip, heart leap, fast forward but save one day, 

The unlived day-
Perhaps that, I owe, and I must pay, 

For I saw the future and claimed I lived it-
I lived the day twice, and just once many more, 

Well remembered sequences,
Steps and avoided missteps,
Like a dance, one-two-three, one-two-three, 

Clock skip, heart leap, fast forward, save one day- 

The unlived day 

In the end, we float across the galaxies 

Like words in bottles,
Bread upon waters-
For after many days we will find them, 

Our words, long after we are dead, 

As safe as the day they were born- 

Like stars untold, stories unfolding; 

For we are pieces of God in a vacuum full of wonderfulness, 

A drop of dawn in an ocean full of grief.