Currents

by Elle Thompson

What can be learned of love,

From endless nights sleepless

In surrender

To prophets,

Who only dream

Of a way ahead?

What can be learned of death,

From endless mornings,

Mourning waking

In comfortable

Silence yearning

For another hour in bed?

What can be true of the sun

If it never sets?

What can be true of fever

If it never rests?

What can be seen of oceans

If they never end?

What can be seen of children

If they never pretend

To live the young life

Of a princess at sea,

Lost in the fervor

Of gorgeous golden pleas?

Away their little heads doze

To stories that only flee,

Asleep before they feign

Wakefulness; the sandman’s decree

What can be learned of dreams

From soft hourglass sand

Tilting down the second hand,

Unless the Angels,

In their benevolent carefree

Laughter, tip it over

Renewing the consequential hereafter?