Of Light and Color

It's a pity

a butterfly is cliché

           But such is the fate of deeper truths

The caterpillar

           decays into itself,

And its law

           consumes it

And so

The growth of man

           is sacred

Chaos disgraces him

And pain

           offers him vision

Once I went crazy

Writing poems,

Like Rilke,

            who abandoned his dishes,

            And sought some church

Now I’ve returned

My dishes are clean

My family is many

And the light and color, which burns in me,

Burns for tomorrow

And mine and His are one.