To a Younger Self, Asleep with His Windows Open to the Sea

[Ghost]

You.

A moment more and the light
will whisper another sky
for you, another blue September
sea, another sand-dollar moon
spent by the starry tides
whole and a-rest in sea foam clouds.

You are not yet old enough to know
a miracle common as sunrise,
as an Autumn ocean warm and deep
as love and every bit as bitter.

Sweet you do not yet hear
the ticking of death's heel
in the sound of the clocks.

Sweet you would not know
yourself in the words of this poem.

You are a dreamer, you.
You are asleep in yourself
and the lie of it: your faith
in the worst of all Gods:
the probable tomorrow.

You.

O, a moment more and the dark
will whisper another sky for you.

[judih]

unspeakably lovely

[saw]

very beautiful poem....the younger self couldn't possibly know how the old self would look at him....so you have masterfully described it all in simple language that tugs at the heart....