We go beyond,
the openness,
the gate,
this absence that others don’t see.
We go accepting void
naked risk,
precise engagement,
without cover, or defence.
It should be shining there
when we walk by,
the clear portal
through which we pass and re-pass,
miraculously, through which
our hands meet,
transit, return,
this doorway
this place we go, to be,
in which we do not
seek a strategy, or make a move,
outwit, out-think, out-flank,
but touch, infinitely,
touch, endlessly.
Wait
You became
the shade-tree,
starred dark,
pierced mouth of fruit,
fragile light-bearer.
I know how
eternity ticks through you,
leaf-clock-hour,
you pour all-colour’s silence
make
the electric nerve serene,
its quiver of blue
turned to me, face,
pure shape,
what we are
poured over you,
white seed
of the far place.
Fruit for me.
Rest, weight
in the lost palm,
my leaf
fleck,
your night
with gold, red
buds of birth,
each with no name,
the myriad,
in smoke, dawn, mist.
Make the shade-tree,
pillar, stream,
snake
of beams, hot lines
etched in skin
dip stalks in rose,
vermilion, blood of light,
then give
me
your green.
Through the form, blue fruit,
I know that
we are not,
nor you,
solution
but
solace, eye-scar,
with silence
seal it.
Be body.
Be there.
Bark
Eye lost,
eye lost in you,
trunk, peeled
eye-bark.
Down the maze,
the leaf-floor,
shimmers of light.
While you
with mind’s pain
navigate
smoke, water, dream-sleep
and I
in your pain, quiver
and am still.
To be unfit
for life,
fit
for eternity
is to gaze,
make, wait,
to tell,
is to dare to tell,
to say, look,
to stand,
accused.
Not to consider
the self,
not to escape,
to move,
towards ecstasy,
inch by inch,
to bare mouths,
of lips,
to vanish
in wood.
