as the moon overspills, it bleeds its mad, mad song
the sun's voices cast across its shoulder
gold white, the keen lance flares brilliant
loud in my heart's ear
the clear young call
it brings my eyes to tears, it is so old
pierces and thrums
delights and distresses
rings out from the deep of me
endless shimmering tornado
spotless, godless, gleaming and bliss white
divine madness summons, wrenching, over more than distance
impatient, I fearfully
reluctant, I joyfully
obey
who could lie idle when the king is calling?