Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Fragments from a Lost Suite

for Van

Until you left
your body

You never knew
the limping god
was not a lame god.

Now he rises
to dance
to your tune,

and becomes
a green light
guiding you
into the woods.

But this time
the will o' th' wisp
burns true

guiding you
into the swamp
in March

where a
purple flower
rises from roots
that melt through
the ice.

Its blossom
will be your boat
for the next part
of your journey

floating on dark waters
through the cavern
of your heart

its beating
reminding you
of the rhythms
that anchored
you to the Earth.

Follow that river home.