AGATE LAMP
A peaceful evening in late April
the trees barely budding
in mild light while brooding
darkness rings the besieged people
& this dissonance of visible invisible
an indivisible fire smoldering
criminals & saints revealing
callous inhumanity with humble
solidarity courageous all-compassionate
& in my flimsy gazebo
octagonal coracle or Argo
with Sophie’s wind-chime over the gate
delicate oak-leaf butter-knife design
tingling in the calm air O
here in my Ariadne-lair where
a Chartres J coils toward her Eschaton
& my whisper follows Cautantowwit
through Narragansett smokehole
southwest, southwest while a soul-
hart sails back to her monarch nest –
that circling square dance of Ocean beams
where the spirit of Jessie Ophelia
& Juliet Ravlin abide in Thee &
Eternity, O Eternity! cries Roger Williams
& you lift your agate lamp, Psyche
like a fiddlehead in Holy-Land
& the soeur-coulombe of the Son
of Man swerves with a shining eye
4.27.20
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