The Smallness of Being
By Shawn McCann, student, School for Graduate Studies
December 16, 2013
“The Smallness of Being”
The stars map out the heavens.
The full moon reaches down.
The sea roars in her solitude.
My face slips into oblivion, disappearing into darkness,
as my thoughts follow and fly away,
streaming across an ocean who has no need for man.
My thoughts will not meet the dawn.
They will plunge into the indifferent waters,
and drown beneath the current of her veins,
resting forever in the dark silence of her power.
By the next light, I will rise and walk along her golden shore.
Behind me, her tide will efface each print of bowed
and ambulatory abstraction.
When the zephyr wind blows,
caressing the hairs of what’s left of my skin,
and the sun hangs over the wind’s horizon,
his strokes lengthening in kind and torpid restraint,
I will strip and bathe naked in her cathartic virtue,
basking in the holy salt of her womb.
Later, in the gloaming, as the shadows settle in,
I will face a new darkness,
and each new thought framed by the light of day,
will fly away and vanish once again
into the indifferent waters who have no need for me.