Showing posts with label prophets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prophets. Show all posts

4.02.2020

whispering the news



NESTED BRANCHES

When the Eternal comes, says the Rabbi,
& what does he mean?
May be the Ghost behind the scene;
the tear with grain of Ocean in your eye.

The truth is whole, the truth is one –
& what does this mean?
That Love’s criterion
is rectitude, in every human situation.

Gumilev, that Petersburg poet,
called it chaste vision
welded like dew at dawn
to blades of grass, the spark of holy Paraclete.

The infant acorn was King of the Wood.
The leaves bent, whispering the news
through Ariadne’s arbor… (hers
the thread – her nested branches overhead).

The Rabbi is a child of God!
cried Mary Magdalen.
He dies on this occasion
since he bears the prophet’s spiral rod

twirling from heaven as from nothingness.
His smile defies your gravitation;
he will come again
after three days of stony sleepiness

like Jonah sprang from salty Milky Way;
the rule of theft & violence,
of Minotaur’s demonic fraudulence
is coming to an end.  Truth shines like day.

4.2.20

7.11.2019

mark how red dust leaps




GATEWAY RING

The trickster-shaman & the prickly prophet
frame a stumbling-block
you can’t dislodge... mock
as you may, puffy lectern-puppet.

It is a fundamental moral world
they dramatize, a place
of breathing flames – their science
is conscience, this life a dream unfurled

on stage (his banner over me was love).
On board a fellowship
from birth, we skip, we slip
& slide toward the deep (sky-alcove,

ocean-sepulchre... Osiris-canoe
full of Isis-candles... grave
of MLK, our architrave).
As if returning to our own soul (true).

In West Branch, Iowa (my grandmother’s
home town) there is a dark
moss-green catafalque
of Isis, adamant earth-mother (who remembers).

& the North Star of the martyrs shines
like a seminal spark
over the Iron Range.  Mark
how red dust leaps into lifelines –

how a merry-go-round of American clay
swings toward the gateway ring
upstream, down.  Shaping
newborn, translated children – maize, hay hey.

7.11.19