Let the dance make the hull be subject to decay, <br />A crucible for words, I shall free the live one. <br />Who can deny the wind when the oak crashes down? <br />In flawless crystal are breath and strength caged away. <br /> <br />Spirit of the whirlwind that composes my chest, <br />I scatter all my hours like grains I would winnow, <br />Concealing in myself gem and skilful tempo <br />In which a rising star has both start and recess. <br /> <br />As a spinning spiral engulfing years and miles, <br />The fiend abducting me I shall, some day, devour- <br />Theseus oblivious of the hiding monster-. <br /> <br />(In everlasting fields thrive the short-lasting strains) <br />And I shall find again, once the truce is proclaimed, <br />My inviolate core that's deserted by time.<br /><br />Michel Galiana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/geode/
