7.18.2018

unbreakable chords




HUMAN ECHO

Your nostalgia for the aristocracy
of childhood, Vladimir,
I understand.  So here :
infantile tyrants bear it away

in sappy cerements of innocence.
Galla & her golden boy
& their brief beehive day
drowse in Ravenna, under silence

of mosaic stars; Dante too
sleeps there, still far
from his Firenze mรจre
the milky galaxy of midnight blue,

his babble-realm of splendor-joy.
A fluent melody
pours endlessly
from thine ineffable benevolence, Blue J;

a spiral at the cave entrance,
an everlasting sign
of all Creation
(ceaseless, calm, majestic dance).

Those unbreakable chords of Mendelssohn
at the end of the trolley line;
the sound of the violin
lesson, the neighborhood of children...

& the shadow of the Thunderbird
in the immense oak tree
the dark green sanctuary
of Morning Star   dolphin-shepherd

                     *

out of deep-twined memory
by the cistern heard
rose-enfolded Word
out of Ocean’s fond   Jonah-infinity

Instinctive fright becomes aggression,
dominance abets revenge;
since long before Stonehenge
each weak scapegoat endures oppression

& the tantrum of the infant
replicated by depression
each political occasion
filters through both mob & tyrant.

But it shall not be so with thee.
I have no wrath, the Ghost
murmurs; I am the Most
High Heartbeat, mild Invisibility –

indivisible reply
out of the crystalline
& quintessential Union
at the source of Earth & Sky.

I am your human echo, come to be
among you, in my realm
of love, mercy, wisdom
I am the Nazir, chanting out of Galilee.

& then I saw her, Jonah-Shadow –
wings extending over all
of Minneapolis/St. Paul.
Ghost-heart we feel, ghost-bird we know.

7.18.18

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