Could Have Called Back Your Planets Poem by L.B. Temuco

There is no order or measure
A self-evident moment I remember
in the moist air, as unrelated
If we change places we change nothing
Your heart is not a nation lost
bled on stones in a faraway fields
You never left the sea to be, for centuries,
unlaunched, empty and silent
you never led the souls
of all your battalions from the land
Your heart is the Lamb of God
I know this, because I raised my arms
and pulled you
like a fleece from the sky
and we lay for that moment, in the moist air
until your wings revived in me
the only mystery that I can love
They always do
If you could have lived behind windows
could have felt the flutter of curtains
against the same stale air
could have called back your planets
You did not, you cannot
You understand too much, that even
if we change places we change nothing