Sprung

Etude: Slaughterhouse Scales

He dreamt himself beneath a coco.

It accused him hotly:

“ You just want my coconuts!”

He replied:

“ The sun is hot.
I’ve traveled long.
I am perfectly content
just to lay in the quiet coolness
of your shade a while.”

*******************

Love is itself unmoving,
Only the cause and end of movement.

********************

Unstuck from the linear,
customary devouring chronometries
the pattern approaches the
perfection of certain circular geometries
whose innermost equations are
shot through with devastating light-

there the mercurial current throbs,
a sanguine, ethereal confluence-

the beguiling, brilliant dalliance of
some unnamed, essential quickening.

**********************

The eucalyptus was moving,
hovering and humming (almost)
above a pelt of grass (which also moved)
in a windless, star-slit night
of incomplete stillness-
a subtle motion perceptible
to the blood but not the eye.

He tells her-
“ It’s spring now, fruit takes the branch.
When time comes I will not attempt
to keep the blossoms from falling.”