Prophecy

For Cyprian Norwid

There was no one
A human void left you voiceless
Save the creeping mystery flowing from your hands
The seeping history pouring from your eyes
Such starling Poetry blinking into daylight ...
Penniless and alone
You were right about only your son’s son
Reading you a right
Vanished in a pauper’s grave
The poet turns
The poet knew
The stones that I would step upon today

The people’s hands are indeed swollen with applause