Transfiguration of a maze


To imitate Francis, or Guillem d’Orange;
not to turn from the world,
but my own greedy churl
to whom the world panders (strange

profit in dust).  In the sweet flame
of yearning day-lilies,
to glimpse a dew-sprung rose
labyrinth... Love’s beckoning game.

Transfiguration of a maze of sighs –
of Giuliana’s longing,
Henry Cat’s sad reckoning...
all those winding trails of Psyche,

Ariadne’s ingle eye.  The far Gate
shimmers there, in Frisco Bay;
an M, as of a catenary
smile suspended, doubles you (checkmate);

your azure horizon draws its line
between twin vanishing points,
like pillars of four pines
feathered to a target (mine).

The wellspring of the soul is as
a lodestone (from beyond
the Milky Way).  Fond
depths of Holy-Land – Eureka-adze

or axis of the earth.  Bee-mouth,
hinge of honey-door
where uncreated light pours
through... sunbeam, raying north & south.


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