Second Avatar, Four

Earl Pascoe,

Carnival

We circle round the garden ground, perplexed
About ourselves and where this garden lies,
About what went before, what will come next –
We touch the ground, but scry beneath glass skies.
If every day’s our last, we must enjoy
This ground, these skies, and wander where we will,
Not seeing when tomorrow will destroy
This ground, these skies – and every dawn must thrill.
But let’s imagine we have an infinity
Of dawns to rise on us and dusks to set
And in our blindness we command divinity
And owe no other god, nor time, no debt.
We’ll sleep the long millennia away,
And dream our lives and wake for but a day.