Gabriel has lost his horn
by Samuel Derrick Rosen
There has been an upsurge of ever-watching eyes;
random, indiscriminate, but no purpose do they serve.
A light that is unseeable must contemplate itself.
I have forgotten to tend orchards sprung from the thriving shade.
I'm busy figuring limits on the beds that can't be made.
Amid the energy of leaves, amid new silences unplayed,
mid the slumber of the stones that cannot now be weighed,
there's a leaking of a cup,
a mind that knows no form; its doors are always locked
and its windows always open, perpetually it is shocked
by the hurdles of these heavens, by every still-framed flame.
Gabriel has lost his horn, up and down the aisles he blows
instead the silence, slowly grows
oblivious to distance. The universe growls, the universe
always growls. Firelight and time were born to pity shadows.