To Dance Among the Gods

The clouds have made a ladder to the moon.
I must depart if I'm to get there soon--
I hear the loon, the sound of sorrow sad
Against the hoots and howls that make me glad
I push against the fad that keeps me tied
To when I'm all too often at--I bide
My time and hide too little and too much--
I use the craggy mountain as a crutch
As fingers clutch the wispy rungs that rise
As snow-topped iron--there, the loon still cries
While I'm the one who flies, the lunatic
Who listens to the moon, the voice a prick
In time's quick tick that seems so slow to you--
I'm forced to find the beautiful and true,
The morals as they grew, the just--those four
Are me, as every poet knows--the door
The poet opens you implore he close--
You hate the life, the light the poet chose--
And as he grows--I grow--to face the fight
To dive to nature and to rise in flight
To be as gods, delight in rising up
To orbit with the moon and fill our cup
And sup on gold ambrosia in the shade
Among our equals, dreams who slowly fade.