the bluest sky

When breaks this heart
may it be a matter of some weight,
not a trifle but lightly beheld by some
even more easily cast aside by others
but greater yet by far than that which
‘neath bended knee did Atlas nearly fail.

When breaks this heart
may time itself in dread possessed
grind swiftly, irrevocably to a halt
and worlds shatter like plaster cast
sensitive even to the abrasive touch
of Aurora’s gossamer veil.

When breaks this heart
may it not in whispers pass unheeded
but cleave the general ear of man and
woman too with a rending of hearts and
a beating of breasts bared the like of
which even Hector could not inspire.

When breaks this heart
may not a single bird take wing aloft
nor infant in mother’s arms sweetly grin
nor child giggle lost in folly’s delight
but all take fearful notice, all beware
all cease to breathe lest this they miss.

When breaks this heart
may it find an echo in the pounding
waves of imminent doom that dance
across this soul made weary by want,
grown pale with the cast of thoughtless
wandering spirits who love embrace.

When breaks this heart
may the pieces thus rent asunder alight
on none but thy sweet wings enfolded
carried hence o’er lands untrammeled yet
guided naught but by thy sweet voice
that in verse does sing the bluest sky.