I have burdened you, dear Margaret,
good daughter that you are,
with duty, truth and common sense,
and ideals, unpopular.
Your manner meets my every wish—
your perception merits nervous praise
from those who come to woo you,
who strive to dare your gaze.
I have hindered you, dear Margaret,
I have taught you to be headstrong,
and I will bless the man that suits you
should one ever come along.
Man is equally incapable of seeing
the nothingness from which he emerges
and the infinity in which he is engulfed. — Pascal
Although I am certain that what lies
beneath the bend will bring its light,
I see, now, only fireflies and falling stars
in this part of day I know as night.
In truth, I wish my seeing could
see more beyond the dots and dashes—
much more that what is understood
of lightning bugs, of fiery ashes.
© J.D. Heskin
Loch Raven Review Fall 2005 Vol. I, No. 1
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