At my birth <br />my father built my bones in letters of gold <br />and my mother filled the marrow <br />with immaculate word. In my birthbed <br />I opened of my eye of ebony sponge <br />my stammering lips, <br />and dreamed of light <br />and of the ultimate word. Then in my birthbed <br />in tears and laughter <br />I placed Time under my head <br />and in a pretty dream <br />arrived at gates of the celestial altar.<br /><br />Arshavir Mckertichian<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/of-gold-and-immaculate-word/
