The Bowl Above

The nocturnal sky
    That's over and up,
Imbibe it, I,
    The o'erturned cup...

I swallow the stars,
    That scattered light,
And drink of Mars
    And Venus so bright.

I quaff the moon,
    Its crescent aglow,
And swallow it soon
    And gulp it below...

A meteor a-streak
    Is barely a sip,
Almost a sneak
    To escape the lip.

And the vessel's rim,
    It touches round;
Where tree and limb
    And earth are found

And there, so lowly,
    By wood and hill,
Is ladled so slowly,
    The bowl its fill.

O may I by night,
    Always savor
This celestial sight,
    The cup with flavor.

John Riedell


Return to Home Page


Copyright 2005 - John Riedell - All Rights Reserved
Site Last Updated on 09/18/06