To You & the Sun Faced Chimes

 

To You & the Sun Faced Chimes

 

I want to sail from this back road

in the petals of a slow peace

I will be stoic, a syllable of one sound

Eyes as amber as ripe persimmons

my hair in a pull of wind fingers

There is an laceration on my foot

each time I remember a lifetime of patches

I leave the wound open to the sun

Perhaps there is a protocol that translates

into a white dove shrugging

small feathers of uncertainty into my lap

Maybe it was the wine of that last village

where everyone danced the same steps

in an endless tirade they hoped would touch

upon the quick ear of a master,

and noted into music

I pass a hill of addicts standing

near a knot of lost children,

each one a suckling on a hopeless tit,

and I travel on

In the valley I pass the rumor of God held hostage

He is in a secret place and bound in blue

I am headed for the good luck of sudden change

where all the wild horses run bridal free

with nothing between their lips but sweet weed

There is a house there that builds itself

in careful brick accomplishments

and the rosewood of candles soften tired faces

There are a few words that glisten in crystals

nurtured by the rain of spring in her gentle bloom.

I will save you a room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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