Stardate: Vernal Transition. Log Entry of a temporary explorer, mysterious even unto himself, native of the ephemeral eternal periphery, adwell awhile in this earthwise body, planet orb #3, sunstar #unknown, galaxy #13…
Trillions
of myriad
unique
white hexagons
having been enchanted
hither and yon
in wind-sculpted masses
after descending
in numerous symphonies
out of high gray expanses
sometimes mesmerizing slow
string sections
in dreamy unison
sometimes wild discordant passages
in combative vectors
of timpani and brass
screeching with
battling time signatures
sometimes tiny
as insect eggs
sometimes massive
coagulated
now entangled unmoving
exude a spell of silence
godly deeds revealed
as an alabaster crust
bejewelling
this valley
and the next dozens
with a pregnant soundless comforter
pierced only
by wise hardy tree pricks
from below
or traversed
(one deduces)
by etchings
purposefully executed
where sentient ones
of many shapes
left only
their tracings
of labored passage
•
Till then
when
transformation cascades
snail-paced at first
from every high place
into every lower place
the mystery of warmth
pervades every speck
waking them
to newness
nudging each its neighbor
loosing its livingness
cooked over winter
their bodies turn liquid
their raiment clear
that light mingles through them
their rigid shapes unveil
a creative plasticity
so formless
that they merge
in miracles of movement
and droplets of hundreds
trickle south
into amoebae of thousands
letting gravity crawl them
relaxed first
then a torrent
then torrents of torrents
one trillion
surging brothers
singing loudly in chorus
reminding the miraculous
to all who have ears
angling for oceans
over branch, twig, and rock
arousing the fishes
attracting the hunters
billed and web-footed
swimming in hungry ecstacy
through the corpus
of their incessant
non-self movement
while through a window
in an edifice
hears a nocturnal observer
unasleep between dreams
a constant roar
alpine river
newly reborn
and all this
because
the unceasing yellow giver
community of spirits
has re-imagined his holy arc
through a shifting north sky
such that
infinitesimal more portions
of its very life being
pour down
indiscriminately
loving each thing
sentient or crystallized
awake or enchanted
deserving or clueless
with everlasting
cosmic honey
_______RS
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Were you listening to Stravinsky’s ‘Rite of Spring’ while composing this dynamic poem?
No, I think Weather Report was on the CD player. But — really good idea you have! 🙂
Nicely done