Heaven Works Backwards

Though this moment is altogether less than perfect-
though this time is broken,
we have determined to make the better of it
but we have not altogether discarded

our intermittent yearning
for the yet-to-come
light which promises to raze
the gauzy veil perpetual-
for the rush and clarity
of an ice cold wave of future bliss
to bear down on our blurry senses.

All yearnings and all waitings
are one motion
in one direction-
all pining and all wantings
are one future gravity.

the small yearnings
the small waits:
this present past will be illuminated
by an embrace long anticipated

& the long-con, the long wait
(the only one we know)

the droll, dull, plodding
of this series
of pasts and repasts
will color backwards
each bleak day

the warmth of true red
the sweet notes of genuine violet
the glow of undimmed gold
and a blue, a whole blue

a blue beyond what my weak eyes
are for now privileged to behold-

the blue of the peace
of never again seeing a blue
that only gives our wish for blue
a whet.

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