5.25.2017

6-way pearlosphere



SHADY GROVE

Water & limestone, flowing water
& flint.  One flinty poet.
Raven (Cautantowwit)
bent southwest... shady potter

evening the light patter
into one plate
(a starfish template).
Love knit into the gray matter –

after Apollo’s leaf-shaken by Laura
& Guillaume flutes his
last letter to Texas
(chère Annie della Santa Povera).

Orpheus mining for Eurydice
or Hobo for a spare soul
bear witness to the whole
arcade of an elliptical theodicy –

the love that filters through the frame
of selfishness, into the wheel
of goodness nonpareil –
along a zigzag trail (from shame

to limpid sunshine, fear to hope).
This labyrinth of green
copper, spring’s has-been
graven into will-be – mighty trope

of Lincoln profile, lifting from
rust-brown decades
(gilded cage, parades...)
– an infinitesimal infant hum

              *

like flute-call of a one-stringed
gusle, or trompette
marine – sweet lure set
looping gracefully from stringent

steel twin pillars – fleet trimaster
launched on azure wave-
arc from the knave-
matrix of simian disaster –

Noah’s rhombus of acacia,
world-gathering lantern-
ship of ringèd Saturn
bowed with figurehead (Columbia)

of grey rain   hummin being
or bee hummin   human

              *

bird   shade   Galilean
Nazir   nightingale   circling

like adamant flint iamond
or polyalmond eye
within the 6-way
pearlosphere   Warlpiri-monde

or center of Center, N.D.
where Black Elk springs
his sundance rings
of omnipresent dove-activity

so dive in   dive to the divine
drive-in   twine-chariot
of agate Agape   knot-
spun to lift   into ascension-heaven

              *

Franklin Bridge repair is almost done.
The river flows midéwé way
toward Memorial Day.
We spiral back where we’ve begun.

That granite portal of an Ocean State
where Roger steps from his
canoe – old Prospect Terrace,
over Providence – rêve-songs originate

there, looking west (toward St. Louis
& Frisco).  Late May
brings Rhody Statehood Day,
centenary of JFK (his Newport, ours) –

& in Paris (1913) Apollinaire
beheld the Rite of Spring
before Great War (engulfing
Earth in violence... pity... despair).

A tiny hummingbird speeds blossomward.
Grey sound-waves buzz
like microscopic doves
or bees around oak honey-hoard.

They’re everywhere.  The hollow tock
of woodpecker foretells
a carillon (death-knells,
birth-pangs) – oak droning, Knock.

It shall be opened.  The shady grove
teems into restoration.
Cup-bearing dome-creation.
Wine-stained Milky Way (Manitou-trove).

5.25.17

No comments: