Kneel before me?
Does it believe that our total knowledge
Can save it?
And is it right?
I approach in twilight.
The snow compacts beneath my shoes,
Its sound redolent of my horse chewing apples.
He did love the snow.
In times like these,
Mementos mori abound.
The weedy bird at my feet,
Growing smaller each day I pass,
Fading in among the gravel,
Shrinking.
That songbirds turn into gravel was
The first thing I ever learned about geology.
These things are so circular.
I climb higher to
Improve my view.
Searching as I climb
For the perfect rock to bring to you.
Unable to find it.
Yet we do such things—
We search for perfection in objects,
In love, as if such essences exist.
Filling our pockets with pyrites.
This poem,
Itself a pyrite—
Words I write to be loved.
And yet the glacier kneels.
Its skin cracked like an ancient painting.
I bid it to stand, and wonder,
When all of its light has vanished from the earth,
What of our total knowledge will be lost with it?
by Robert Sassor
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