The sun had not yet risen
the stars made their way to the center of the sky
congregating on the throne of tomorrow.
The commandment of two breaths:
Live and Pray
The seen and unseen.
My child reminds me
there were once whales
here in this expanse of sand.
The seen and unseen.
Like the dormer that cuts through the ceiling
and perches a body in the sky
for the looking.
The seen and unseen.
We float in whatever ways we can
knowing our suspension in the sky brings us closer to our own yearnings.
Mediates the tension of our body’s desire for earth
and our spirit’s desire for sky.
The seen and unseen.
This was understood.
Implicated in the pinnacle
at the point of the pyramid.
The seen and unseen.
This was never thought of by the grave diggers
who left their spirits to deepen their flesh into earth.
Who gave their way to the “partition of finds.”
Blinded by the seeing
collapsing the centuries
into cold marble halls.
If ever you see my hands in cuffs
know that somewhere near
a museum is burning.
Copyright © 2026 by Matthew Shenoda. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February 5, 2026, by the Academy of American Poets.
