At the Pivot End of a Life
At the pivot end of a life (between this world and the next) all the sleek black horses lined up for inspection all the…
Somewhere in the remote arctic there’s a
vast sea of oval glaciers each set as if
in ivory and extending across the
expanse as if providing steppingstones for God
over black water
from the Inconceivable to the Incontrovertible
as He in an inscrutable mechanism proceeds on
His endless rounds through the
known and unknown universe indefatigably
assisting and peeling back and revealing the
core and manifesting it then concealing it back inside
its rippling golden sheath across each
edgeless horizon as if it were the sun but it is
not the sun it’s a seed the size of the sun
inside our hearts
worshipping within its own solar heaven
and melting each manifestation back again
into its reflecting pool like amber honey
over which he bends His Face
as the dream shatters
(from Stories too Fiery to Sing/Too Watery to Whisper)
Categories: Poems