abba, father --
stilled there by the fountain we salute
your strength, our
Saviour in these
Nights hinged
up against Glass, uprooting Anger
as Love, Memories co-
alescing in a Minute -- who
Stands listing from the Wave
when We
have come to the Light naked
and Amused?
long, tempered Unions shift
and desist before
our Eyes as he holds us in His Arms the
succinct
portrayal a joyful youth
in a quick shake, an utter Implosion
Uncovered -- liquid
pearls shine in
the lamplight as you attach your
cufflinks Man of a Circling
pleasure the whining Engine yours
to Keep running
out to Sea -- What was it
you Saw, there, a
dove on
the Wing subtle
in its Ascent? --
heretic bird of a birth pang? -- What
Silence is it here
that forms
a coherent Merger of Sky
and Water the
Foam
breaking on the Rocks the Mind
vibrant with Despair? How
do you Stand
now, Crooked with Wisdom bent
to The Plow our
iron filings lining up along the Magnet -- We,
the Casually sustained Infractions
of an Archaic
Lore urge you
to Extract the blister from
the Thumb
that We may
Succumb to Vice the soothing Balm
of an Articulate
Inclusion these Our
heartfelt Ironies warm with Your Embrace; what
Manner of being is it in this House
That stutters quietly on Our shoulders
the Sudden Arrival of a Hope
Now shimmering? These
knob-like appendages burst in Collusion
with Cacti and Maple Leaf -- These
are Our
Forbears ripe with Shores unending there
where the rowboat
bobs its listless Wandering the line
cast out as we hum
with Passion
the breaking of the Tide here Explosion
in Time and Space -- We
draw each other Close
and Embrace our bony backs father
and Son, abba, father, You
Who wince at the Morning's Light
tight with Concentration on
Galaxies and Nebulae Hubble's beacons
glowing in the Darkness -- Here, on
the edge
of a moist Earth we can
pick stray worms for bait and Wave
the Sprite to bathe here
in Our fountain; Why
do Sentences form in your Mouth to be
silenced by a knowing
look of Our eyes Locked and Loaded
ready for Trust
or Inclined Forbearance?
These are the days, here, that
never end, a duo
of flute and guitar there
by the Window's bright Sun -- We
are the bums of Nuance
here on a Mountain top calling out to
the lustrous Tides to
wash Us in blood this Neverending
Coitus of
Faith and Surmise now firmly held
in Your Arms
the intimate Stoked coals in the fir Pit glowing -- We
grow into Ourselves and Each Other
two men grown with grey temples Father
and Son now
rich with Nostalgia our Hives honey-filled
those days you
would Rescue me from Myself our Minds
scarred with intrusions
this breaking of the branch high above
Sparrows twittering chipmunks
on the run from Errant squirrels Our hope
long held and ready
for fulfillment -- What
day is it Now, here, Where
the Cavalcade
of itinerate Stars gyrate in the Night?
You look to the Heavens for some Slight
inkling of Your Youth there Where we can
Abjure and quietly succumb to Sleep, this
our last Oration
and first delivery -- I have seen You
there counting your abacus beads
with a casual hand and inquiring as to
our Next meal here
on this flat Stone --
I have grown through your
blue eyes yearning with
an impish smile; will you save
the kitten from the dog's Snappish
jaw? punishment of
a vagrant Tooth -- You stand
firm with Ivy at Your feet the Oak
tree yawning
in a warlord's Glance your
Uprooting of the Wet dirt and beetles
a tangent line, the
learned Response -- Where
is the Counselor, tiller of
this Earth holy Spirit
your Faith a Musical delight the
whirling
dhervish of the Mind our
inclination this way then that? -- have
You seen me in the
distance, praying for a certain
Constancy of being, language
the house
we Live in You grown Old with Eager
Surmise -- "I love
lovestruck Villians," You
will object; these
are Our long Lines of Abstract
reasoning burning
that bridge when We
come to It our Gardens full
of Sunflowers and
weeds You the tall Man with
the watering pail
brushing pine needles
from His Coat --
