You-You Hymn?

it comes again — from heaven

a strike of thunder—

not a post-trample

echo from a distinct temple

I roar—

I sample

was—Sam?

my bond to Adam?

seek it—

death. feel it or not

I shall turn this summit—solid

no admiration, no proving

a provoking rhyme—

not for your tongue

funny to tell…

but when you hear—me, that you—

you-you… hymn?

how? why ask—

as if I would answer

in fact, I don’t

I threw the puzzle—berserk

heavy on your body

void-smirk, my joke

skull.

labyrinth.

no blueprint

sign it

significant—arrogant… at its—end

I saw you reading

your eyes—clap / collapse

your mind—crack… cracks

fragement collection:Thunder

Where the divine strikes, language does not die —

it splinters into something older than meaning.

A sequence written inside the wound.

Fragments of a self that touched the absolute

and came back wrong — and luminous.