Transfiguration of a maze

FOUR PINES

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.

3.30.16