on the snow path


On the snow path between bridges
the sun squints beneath
clouds; twin hawks unsheath
talons, whirl over river’s edge

(aerial wrestle-dance).  Winter sky
slows the flow down,
frozen.  Last windblown
oak leaves sail the bone-dry

ground.  Yet in another age
innocent gold honey
fed the sons of Zebedee
from almond lips of Nazir-sage –

his eagle-crow, accompanied
by flutes & turtledoves.
The knot of shackled loves
in your Knossos-heart are freed

when crystalline snow-light, like salt
shines through the octagon
of your mandorla – son
& father, sister mother & daughter melt

into one mead-measure of fire
& the smile of Manitou
mirrors an arc for you –
primordial apse of Apollinaire.

Whorled vortex of the shepherd’s roam
reveals a human face
in that holy place –
mosaic well from kingdom come.


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