Mote in air, apparitions of

life in light, indelible memory

the glimmer of your rounded cheeks

anemone, narcissus, poppy, lupine

ancient wild efflorescence

too young to die, too strong-willed not to know

the strike of Esse on your back

strip by strip, they tore at your resolve

hungry to penetrate the lambent sun

you gave them nothing

but the chaffed heal of your candescent run

ocean on one side, Precambrian and Pleistocene 

bowing ancient, brushing volcanic ash

alluvium beneath your feet

there you were undisturbed

claiming the lake within the mountains

high on cordillera, cuerda, smarting with wild flowers

I think you left your spirit there

amongst the Madonna lily, the Negev scarlet anemones

burnt sienna hair, curls of Judaea

though the pearl of the past recedes, we stay

talking over broken spells and time

as it has always been, in defiance

no I won’t, laid your claim

the stubborn reach of acumen

born into you, bearing generations fruit

in the mouth of the river, you touched

the sky, from the desert owl to humble Pterocles

wielding impossible against unceasing cerulean

till out of sight, unfaltering, dive toward tierra

leaves us ebullient for the force of living

alive, alive, alive, yesh me-ayin, something from nothing

and back again, eternal circle, dancing the lectern

equidistant from our center,

you are the silver vein, copper ore, meteorite

carmel sapphire sleeping beneath plain of Madaba

now phosphorous, now illuminate, now starlight

alive, alive, alive

9 Replies to “Blood feather”

  1. Gods. This is like if a variegated geology sprung up into life and danced.

  2. Your poetry pulls me in and I drink it to the last drop. Beautiful. Haunting.

Comments are closed.