The Empty Cup

THE EMPTY CUP

I did not feel this day slip by,
nor did I see the starlings flee,
as if like Death I had no eyes,
no means to plum such mystery.

I did not sense the sun had fled
until the cold ground bit my feet,
not until I dreamt that place
where sky and sun and sea must meet.

Now I near that darkest shape
and hear my name called as afar
and mourn the things I cannot take,
a song, a smile, a falling star.

O to see one final dawn,
to stand in snow and rain and chill,
and hold an ocean in my palm,
the deepest cup that can’t be filled.