By Pavel Chichikov
You know what time it is – what time should it be?
The last second, last division, last segment of an orbit
Last photon stopping – has stopped already,
Nothing left, all darkness overcoming it
Here between one sunrise and the next
One word, one sentence, one denial or affirmation,
Between the letters of a long unfinished text:
The space of empty endless meditation
Beginning and the end, alpha's omega, zed's A
Love's systole, death's hyperdiastolic, all together
Not one moment – Genesis to when there is no day:
Briefer than the falling of a wood dove's feather
(Click here to follow Pavel's ongoing epic poem “The Shoulder of the Sun.” You may visit Pavel's website at http://www.greyowlpress.com.)