Venetian Magicians / Prayer
Note to readers These poems are begun by an inspired first line or two, and during this particular development from poem to po…
1
I enter the chapel of my forehead in prostration
where it is cool and dark
Forehead against smooth boards eyes
closed hands at the sides of my head by my
ears where there’s no sound
Body relaxed hips hinged
At ease and afloat in nowhereness
forever
2
The Madonna of the Beach
washed upright onto shore
starlight around her head
Whale song so distant it’s unheard by us
two-leggeds
but some whales swoon or weep over those faraway
meaningful moans
Tips of peaks underwater where we are now
huddled like a chameleon squid in a grotto
just about to
poke out a pink and greeny-yellow body to
slink along searching for
news and a quick bite
All worlds in full throttle to the
utmost of their potential as New-Agers might say
and yet a pall of gloom over some
shouldering a child’s coffin into a
new graveyard during a too-short
ceasefire soon to unravel
But here in the cool dome of prostration
all’s peaceful and unworldly
The floor doesn’t buckle or break open
Heaven extends from right here into
everywhere
4/17/12 (from The Match that Begins a Conflagration)