Outside Utopia


Sometimes I can almost open the door
outside utopia

where people of earth
waiting in silence gather

for the moment to begin
no matter the color of their skin

the grasp of their dogma
(their clever retorts

against eternity
or infinity) when they

may one day come together
break bread in communal accord

in simplicity of speech
their eyes no longer wary

seeing the other as she is
in dignity

sharing without anger
or remorse

in the covenant of things
without reaching after the impossible

thought beyond
which a child’s voice lifts up her song

then I woke up here without you
empty and bereft, sunk in a black hole.

– Steven Craig Hickman ©2015 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.


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