RIVER KING
A ruby-throated hummingbird
zips past my hideout
like a Feirefiz out
of Wolfram. Parzival inquired
at last – What ails thee, unstrung king?
& tears of fellow-feeling
poured from that Grail-thing
wrapt from all eyes. Dovewing-
featherlight, yet penetrating stone –
translucent as stained glass
above tall quarry-house
of God’s emerald-&-ruby throne;
& waves radiate from your Ocean-
Shadow, like the flowing beard
of an Ancient of Days. Mild,
domestic weather. We are all children
of one family, Turtledove coo-coos...
Come into the Riverboat
of Paradise, & float
upon a Fontegaia (green, chartreuse).
Dive into Dream River, Orpheus,
Eurydice... the River King
is on his dais, chanting
the origin of everything (in caritas).
We are all offspring of a Thunderbird
who lights the way with lightning –
guiding tears to clay, shaping
these bones into gemstones (flameward).
6.7.18
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