The Man with the Blue Guitar VI

A tune beyond us as we are,

Yet nothing changed by the blue guitar;

Ourselves in the tune as if in space,

Yet nothing changed, except the place

Of things as they are and only the place

As you play them, on the blue guitar,

Placed, so, beyond the compass of change,

Perceived in a final atmosphere;

For a moment final, in the way

The thinking of art seems final when

The thinking of god is smoky dew.

The tune is space. The blue guitar

Becomes the place of things as they are,

A composing of senses of the guitar.