The Babbling Shun

by David Caplan

A towering Babble below me...
As stand here perched all alone.
As I stand here all alone...
My race is run.
Pause a minute to wield the arrows,
Stay a while to savor sorrows.
Stay awhile to savior sorrows...
They've only just begun.
If the moment strikes you to cry out in many languages—
Languages new and forgotten...
Remember your wings of wax and tar.
If the moment strikes you to cry out in many languages...
remember the sun.
Race to find the hidden treasures,
Take a bite of forbidden pleasures...
Take a bite of forbidden pleasures...
Because theyÕre the only ones.
Cradle heavens head as you stand high on Babble,
Hold it between your saving breast,
Cradle heavenÕs head in babble...
Before it comes...
the big Holy Shun.
A towering Babble below me...
As stand here perched all alone.
As I stand here all alone...
My race is run.

©2000DavidCaplan