Sine Qua Non
Guiltworthiness. The essential thing.
Needed prime-mover of the minor gods
Harmonies ring for no maker without you
nor, lacking you, may one blot out and begin again.
Like a child abed one trembles and yearns
loath, even, to shutter his eyes
at the sign of the least, least infraction,
as the ember tip ascends the stair
clenched 'twixt the teeth of the Avenger;
sadly, holding the sole key to redress
via harmony, the myriad sins of the world;
lay, in an endless waking state, supine,
dreaming righteous moon-lit paths
through branches of impropriety;
for whom the Beautiful is only quite rightly
the absence of wrong's formal embodiment.
'Child-trembling at the end of this accusing finger',
Child, it is you.'
poem by Morgan Michaels
Added by Poetry Lover
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