The Gate of the Night (Paul Klee), Sonnet #568

 

The vagaries of thought,

Less what is than is not,

Impossible windows,

Into, out, no wind blows,

And no light pierces lights,

But open gates of nights

Where, like a crystal jar,

Spins only one bright star

Placing all in its place

In emptiness of space,

(I am a meadowlark —

I don’t sing in the dark),

Where all’s in good order

Outside my own border.

My book of the first 200 of these sonnets is now available for purchase at Amazon. Click here:

My Human Disguise.