the swift-winged summer is stealing the last of the wisteria for itself. with cleia’s consent, the rain, replaced by a rising heat, relents, and the sunlight, now, is as bright as my neighbour’s staccato and soaring laughter. in the garden, the cosmos is collecting dew drops, each flower crafting for itself a cluster-crown of constellatory crystal. the iris pseudacorus are blazing apotropaic blades, the fritillary petals tessellate. Advertisements
a sweeping wind, and the shuddering grass. watch glossy-bodied beetles scuttle between buttercups, they’re darting from dark to dark, gifting glimpses of golden shell. balance forget-me-nots on fingertips, your favourites are the flowers coloured a slight rosy lilac, like a midsummer sky at twilight. the field in which you sit is surrounded by a tangle of stinging nettles, and sticky star cleavers, too, tall trees with speckled trunks.
so said the starlight, to the sea, do you know where all rivers lead? what could you hope to know of me? i’m far above you. out of reach. i sing the music of the spheres, and every dawn, i disappear, oh, cosmic lyre, into the fire, that all things come from. ever higher. responds the sea, pellucidly, don’t you know? you are part of me. we rise and fall symmetrically, there’s so much, still, you’ve yet to see. your glow, reflected on my surface? the exhaled breath of universes. and that’s your path, your shining purpose, celestial child, to learn what love is. (i will never ever finish my album if i keep insisting on adding new songs. to the sea!)