In the Cathedral of Romance

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Your mind, a universe apart, dwells far

Away from cars and motors.  Far from men

And women.  It is more a gold-robed czar

Four hundred years ago, or, then again

A necromancer staring in a glass

And seeing far beyond the centuries or

Past eons.  In your mind the stars amass

Galactic thoughts pretending evermore

Exists, as if eternity blooms orbs

And cosmic clouds of gas and dust beyond

A lack of boundaries.  Vacuum absorbs

Such nonsense, nothingness forever spawned.

Your mind insists on order not a quest,

Not journeying alone.  The heart wants songs,

Duets.  It wants a lover, not a guest.

It wants a lover’s lover’s evensongs.

  Too late, too far are both a chanting ghost

    Upraised, a consecrated empty Host.

© Phillip Whidden