through clouds like whales

SOUL SCOUT

                              i.m. Fr. Jacques Hamel

You breathe a mist over stained glass,

like a cloud over Mirror Lake,

by the trolley road to Blake

(in Mendelssohn).  Rouen, alas.

In Chartres nave, one dark gray

thread still navigates

J-whorl, on golden agate –

Ariadne’s Way (sealed crypt to Day).

Her catenary smile will make

a lazy loop through Space

in Time; her carapace

a turtleshell – sweet curve you take

through clouds like whales, Jonah –

to find an old mercy-go-

round anew.  Like Jessie O.

on racy waterwheeler, sunray-

rain-bowed – Lady Liberty

an echo of Cahokia,

a salience of Royal Oak

(lips’ kayak lifting word to be).

Deep breath, Path P, Rhodos.

Out of a barbed-wire

cat’s-cradle (rust pyre

of Minotaur-empire) you rose –

winded with old George, the breadwinner,

& Maggie, of the veritas

caput – where Brandywine flows

into 4 Pine River (soul scout’s honor).

7.26.16