WORD II

 

A shell lives in my mind, uncompanioned as I.

 

Feeling does not figure design into fruition on

pale, windless afternoons

when the sun dyes everything flat and blind

with every dapple sat squat

between mushroom-grey blots like

an undistinguished star.

 

Twilight cast my eyes from a Dark Moon and

Polaris’ vigil, yet my ear tends

toward strands that seam pinnate patches

of taupe and fallen night jasmine

beneath the silence of trees surfeited with day.

 

“Is it a motionless stillness?”, I whisper over

plains I tend and ravage with

serein and hailstorms.

“It unfolds like wind-blown water or the sigh of

an awakening soul sliding across

time’s canvas to the blueness that knows

all as one great body.”

 

Wonder renders the strange known, the familiar

a mystery. The perfected of humanity

venture unbodied on its pinions along the spirit’s

range, chanting an elemental prayer

that echoes in its valleys as the wordless Word

that limns the symbol of eternity,

the unperceived sigil permeating all that

the senses perceive.

 

Wrapped in starlight, I follow its reverberation that

leads to the picture pulsing within thought.

 

Awe raises every mote to a miracle.

 

The opposite of loneliness is the music of ancient

stones…or a walk through moonlit clouds.

 

I am no more earth-weary; my will to breathe is a

white luminescence that shall

outlive its source. Rapture is my umbilicus, corded

to the marrow of eternal rebirth.

 

I am curled tight, infolded as a foetus in the shade,

throbbing as a heart,

listening to the soundless blood of leafed shadows.

 

I am feral, bent, a thing of fangs and fire, as I seek

to write the bridge between meaning and being.  

 

Yet all I can birth is a memorial for thought beyond

its own illusion, for dying I did not cherish

and wombs I forsook. Is such my redemption?

 

A shell opens in my mind, releasing the pearl of Sky.

 

© 2021 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

 

Image: NGC 1977

Source: nl.m.wikipedia.org