Reflections on the curve

the mirror has placed it's light circle on the wall

dry roses in sharp relieved shadows

what test of doubt could reality not answer

the harpsichord jangles

but the lute is soothing

I'll play it alongside the forest birds singing in my ear

this morning all the eyes watch that star flashing

in the early blue of dawn

I send my greeting to you all

a call for the centering of suggestion

now is pushed under my fingertips

and there the screen accepts a gentle command

I can feel the procession as it was

and the kindliness required

the surges of grief for my people

as it washes like the edge of a tide

kissing the inner sands screaming for surcease of the heat

oceans of tears

and the sound of butterfly songs

alighting upon the flowers

that prayer can be heard without words

that the very rare fineness is a silver thread

woven in spectrum of diamond dusting

the firelight vibrates with each sound upon the instrument

in your hand

we call the sky

by way of our hair flying in the wind

all words that can't describe where my body

feels the beast beneath me

where the birdsong touches my mind is yet unmapped

our tragic end a lie

we're asked to disbelieve

without compliance

the music like a long flight of white marble steps

into the shore

where tears and screams rent the angels of the air in two

what spirit cries

in the dark reaches of the memories

only a deep dress

soaked in the weight of weeping thoughts of some past tide

cold and chapped even in memory

how long left alone

the self abandons the self only

in the magical unimaginings of nowhere

under the crowns of starlight