Death, Son of God and Love

A poem

—As I open the door the heavy hands of the morning sky 
      Throw my body on the naked ice, 
And all at once I realize that its infinite and longing blue was nothing 
      More than a blunt arrow my love

      Had shot into its flesh,
Which now, 
—Now at last,
Was returning to 
Earth in a sunlit and thunderless, 
      Dazzling bolt.