as we weave baskets from ravens feathers
beside the slow burning light of our fire
smoke interweaves with the high branches
we stand together before this flame
the glow intensifies like impending glory
wings and bones displayed against the bruised sky
silk webs stun the skyline in opaque splinters
the dry river begins to draw water and move
the bending tunes of a sitar expels whatever firmament is left
high reaching clouds blotch the sky in silence
harps and flutes pan out from ear to ear
a sequestered masterpiece shining note for note
a lapse in time for the mighty bells to dull, fought for by bare backs and dust
string songs flow from the beginnings of the river
this dance continues upwards in vertical spirals
colours un-knowlng shed their shadows beneath
our images are cloaked in light
pure unending un-tampered light
making dreams become the sight of the awakened
choruses of one voice begin to move the earth
as the oceans part and the trees begin to guard the way.
smoke pillars descend
there is an audible hum
while the ocean carries away the particles of dust
webs of colour fall from above
like fractured mosaics
mirrored by the sea and broken by the sky
a dark breeze passes.... the hands of nature still
the echoes of bird song cannot replace this silence
for once we are enraptured, we are secluded
and there is no depth this darkness cannot reach.
No comments:
Post a Comment