Afterlife

May 2, 2016

 

 

Unum, duo, tria, I count the elements on a metronome,

their numbered symbols make a mark’d meter,

A frantic danse macabre over a world of processes.

O, that sublimation would carry me away,

the lighter above the heavy,

a team of angels tromping above the earth,

the fiery seraphim, who announce, holy, holy, holy.

O that I be transmuted,

blackest dross to fairest gold,

in the blue hours before dawn.

O that I climb to heaven,

Aboard my dreams, rocked by chopped ocean,

threatened by deepest seas

and glaring leviathan, wispy-tongued.

May I close ears to the siren

who calls strident, rimed-poetry,

fantastic alchemy, grave fables.

Abroad the silver-tipped wings of albatross,

fluttering pinions of fairies,

folded pelage of nymphs,

May I ascend, ascend the gracious realm,

my elysian field, my Eden… paradise,

for which I long in sighs and lament,

psalm, dirge and hymn.

Oh angels, bring me, aloft,

along the pearled steps,

Where cares fall amidst the lilies,

where worry fades within the sun

which knows no setting, no dusk,

no bugle-call, no sleep at the earth’s end.

 

 

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