East-facing Windows
this morning our bed is ablaze
in wanton light
the sun hammers our windows
rimmed by zero wide and open
unrestrained by nada
it’s really something nothing
spoken
even oceans are more miniscule
than this dawning sea immense and single
that starts the day with a silent gong
no thought breaks its breakers
no idea surfs its silver spilling splinters
no theorems curse its curls and crests
no theses trip its liquid sprinters
light alone
our tireless maker
our natural neutral
undertaker
.
Jim Culleny
5/18/13