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Rondure

This eyeball in the universe,
the engine of our world, pushes
its constant power across
the cold nothingness and drives
into the soil of our anxious lives.

We stare into the east,
build monuments and pray
that its long days will return
to make the hard ground flow.

We huddle in dark caves,
build fires as a meagre substitute,
our shadows dance on the walls,
we are afraid, unsure of its return.

The long nights are harsh
but our prayers seem to work
and the dark is beaten down
as this bright orb once again
makes the earth a graceful place.

Mark Clement - April 12, 2007