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vespers at midnight
moon
like a dilated pupil
belladonna hail mary
open wide staring
as the day dies down
voices rise up, a chorus
of chants & vibrations,
tones, chimes ringing
in the language of
the universe
i offer a midnight of quiet murmering
mutual co-mingling of acapella
music moaning, the tiny colors
of sound that emerge elevated
from the subterranean tunnels,
in catacombs like ants a lost
golden labyrinth of sand & blind
testament to truth, to jeweled soul
great opulant flumes
this mesmerizing midnight.
of original sound
echoes of sound
are echoes, a mere
shadow of music,
a vibrant tornado
chrome-plated memory
in a sanctuary
of silence
where the trembling of
lost vestibules
reclaims
the promise
of all
angelic trajectories
we wait
for the sound
of the voices
to reach
us, silver-nailed, a
hand, a plam open
the gift of creases,
lines that tell a
story in the fabric of
soft animal skin
on this rogue
scatter of white
days, a gathering
haunted by lost
chances & the
caterwauling
of instruments
people of the
mountains,
the footstool
of the stars,
where beards of
snow flow
white like
milk & sugar
we wait for the
unveiling
children of
a saltwater
tomorrow
our legacy of
witness, the
lightness
& float
of pure being
i hear
vespers at
midnight
intoned
with all the
fragrance of
lost elixer
the answers
in silk & beauty
bedecked in
wisdom
(beyond all
recall) |
