At my birth
my father built my bones in letters of gold
and my mother filled the marrow
with immaculate word. In my birthbed
I opened of my eye of ebony sponge
my stammering lips,
and dreamed of light
and of the ultimate word. Then in my birthbed
in tears and laughter
I placed Time under my head
and in a pretty dream
arrived at gates of the celestial altar.
Arshavir Mckertichian
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/of-gold-and-immaculate-word/
