Set the Night Singing #2.55
Updated: Oct 13
What capricious deity
spins clothes so sweet, of glen and dell,
then hides his flesh, deific fine,
so leaving just a scarecrow’s shell?
What alchemist in clever lair
collects the stars to make a child,
then drops him witless in the dust
to wander wastes and dare the wild?
What mad philosopher would write
on stones, on scattered scrolls, his name
in hopes that all one day might be
well understood - this earthy game.