When a wandering impulse from heaven Visits the daily mind of man, lending Some alien hatchling who eyes up the sun, Our faithfulness is born in ignorance. 5 A wetted shadow robs us of rest, Knowing neither the mystery of birth Nor the disappearing gulf into which we’re poured. Our dying height is but the eagle’s nest.
From the collection "Nobody Poems"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.