Complex rings

MORSE CODE

Once, one limpid winter morning,

at the little white shoebox

with Russian Orthodox

sky-blue-gold Cyrillic writing

trellising the doorway, I noticed

a young man cross himself

climbing its wooden steps

& pass alone into its lamplit

depths.  The anthill maze of time

& history is echoed

in the heart’s Morse code –

labyrinthine motherlode (of crime

& punishment, betrayal &

remorse); stone battlements

& iron tongues foment

confusion in the stricken mind;

the hungry roar would hush forever

every low flute-sound

of doves (tremulous under-

side of olive leaves, their silver

ripplings). & yet a lightfoot ghost

still paces pine barrens

past tombs of emperors

& saints... his testament recast

the chaos into complex rings

of plenitude, redemption,

commonweal – knotation

of crosstreads (eternal things).

2.23.16