“Too beautiful to be borne!”
we were told, by the Old.
Did that mean too perfect to come
in an incarnate form, or too stunning
to bear peering into for long?
We could report that the object was large in
relation to us, and was able to barge in
without too much fuss and that rhymes
could be found to expound on it –
up and then down and around on it.
But what kept us gasping for air?
What was the there that nobody could bear –
the beauty, the shock and the kicker?
The miraculous fact with the force
to appall or enthrall?
That anything happened at all..