Forecast?

a dromedary I’ve become
on what’s left
of ice and sea

‘twas this another cycle
by Nature’s hand?

or by industry
and a turbulent cloud
by covetous ancients
who cared only
for their own lifetime?

Time

for Itself…
slower than Silence

never born
never dying

hatching
virgin Emptiness
to fire and rock
to breast-feeding seas
to roots and lungs

till all becomes ash
fertilizing                                         
hatching
fortuitous Newness

but
for Us…
faster than Light

Fervor

condens’d our heats
so oestrual surfaces hardly themselves
       touch’d
     though touch’d hardly
and vaporized—
ourselves to smell
ourselves to taste
inhaling too those fragrances—
to cradlerock erotic turbulence
  aground ‘neath bottomless depths
where render penance frozen forms
       forgiven—
by summer’s eye grac’d their fleshly souls

       hear, our future’s ear!
of today
a more fertile echo
and this amorous passionate peace renew—
      again by your offspring
                     reecho…
                  and again…
pray, lovers keep us till tomorrow’s end

Lucky Me

to be me
Then…
again

how awesome
for even
one grant’d wish

to
the pleasure
the pliancy
the plainness
of Youth

rush runging
the ladder
to seize Hereafter

to
the laggard
the lapse
the languidness
of Eldership

but
for the Life
that I Love—
for the Love
of my Life—

I’ll keep Today’s harvest