"offering
wily whispers
dim pointers
strings of universes
admonishing visions
sigils
o, swift winged one
leather capped
reconciler of gods
above and below
show us
the pattern pure"
LXXI
'Wine for the emissary', we once heard
This benevolent angel striving to be a real man
Now forever our best friend, a crooked smile
Fecund sexless presence
See his sweet wicked dealings
Feeding her pretty real existence
His voice, fickle, mitigating bliss
She winks all there is to say
Messenger
For ever
LXXII
Weak by now, this storm ebbs
Grim sounds dripping into blushing
Pale roses, fragrant gleam
Mild abundance, half wild delight
A long lazy feline sunning on your lap
Lovely eyes, words unremembered
A dozing palace garden
Sun-fed purring pleasure
She sits, legs naked, waiting
A little sneaky god-making
"such ancient summers
we see in these mountains
outstretched valleys
peaks always beyond reach
earth so deep
full of shallow shadows
it seems
until we start walking
here
we wish
to stay"
LXXIII
We see him, cocky news-bearer
Holder of vast benevolent bodies of time
Engulfing us like erupting oil
Fountains of syrupy flames
Drops resting on our skin like dew
Confusing venerable men
Troubling them with kind intention
He crowns curiosity in royal guise
Guard of unmeasurable expanse
Grant us everlasting what
LXXIV
Arrows hit round shield maidens
Swift fierce shafts of solid sun
The bronze power of his bow
Causing the Anfortas wound
How we ache to open shutters
And see the idolized wild girls
Shredding our sundering hearts
Into living rills all night
Our bloody sylvan hearts
Forever pine for light
"thirty-six minutes past eight
we close our eyes
again
take one step
and
see a lake
again
poppies
in may silk green
we turn
a page
again
laughing
just to see
ravishing
longing
rest
far
from
chains
again"
LXXV
Later, as our boat departs again
Rowing against strong currents
Our rough, calloused muscles
Forge passage under sailing stars
This still indigo winter night
These scented lights
This familiar adamantine line
A shore always impossibly near
And our hearts are conscious
We are not yet done
LXXVI
We dream hesitant steps towards home
Call on those preceding
You delightful holy women, men
And look, o, look, they are waving back
We climb these narrow hillside paths
Hear echoes of mounting grief
Lingering remnants of earthy liturgy
Snaking breathless circling time
Up, upwards, up, to great heights
We raise our crude swaying claws
"once we weaseled through this wide world
our brandnew eyes full of wonder
our innocent faces slightly upturned
our chestnut locks over elfin ears
seeking
delicate allusions
listening
for of hidden truths
of old"
LXXVII
Her feathered eyes bridge chasms
Here is all from before
Following transient trails of children
Tattooed like warriors
Slyly we seek good words
Mimicking a herons' hunt
Nothing here to do but wait
Distances too close for comfort
A mighty desire
Still longing for all we are
LXXVIII
Endless sleep, O, soften all towards me
Fluff our fearless feathers
As the curtains open for fresh grace
O, what a pearl, hooked on this wire
A winter-wise sparrow-song
Flowing from our beaks
Brought forth into open light
Preserve me evermore
For you am I, and I am you
Divine delight is ours
"seven little bells
ring
eleven, twelve strings
lyre shaped
as the evening wind rises
they sound
pretty
orphic messages
feeding our fire
he was here
for ages
o
I see"
LXXIX
Branches breathe and breathe
Feeding knotted layers of sound
Tasting each hard-earned note
Taste of chymical delight
Counting copper each blessed time
Embracing, touching, never touched
Fleeting flecks of recognition
Entering us, deeper, ever on
We cling to shipwrecked minds
Anchors under immense skies
LXXX
Heed Dodona's sighs of truth
Our eyes gazing at plain oaks
We grow stronger, not resisting
Reaching divine roots
Balmy light on each visible leaf
Rustling respite through old canopy
Just listening grants relief
Far from our great work
We ache for healing
Deafened by our loud gifts