“Someone Questions”
Someone questions; in the soul who asks
A sense of limitless flight, as in a light cast against
A cosmic scrim, a naked form made indisposed, concupiscence
So well hedged in that even snakes and asps
Imagine kingdoms, place and calling. One seeks
Solace in the stars drawn loosely in the dawn in meadows where the lark
And scissortail fly with grace and prudence safe within the dark
And moonlit bosom of the either side of night. These may speak
In early evening mists as harbingers of loss or sparks for yet another day
For both are lost at first appearances of the other’s prescient rights.
Someone asks too many questions, standing stupid in astonishment–the slights
To similitude and approbation of the sun and blessings of the moon–
And while away their twilight hours in repetitious casting of the bones and runes,
Hers the scarlet crystals, his the blue,
Placated in the midnight for a time. Softly moving, flowing purples
Prove a longing in the hurried bower. Serried sentiments, interpreted
In their yearning by a greater sight, a gilded purity, requests to know
A deeper joy in stations far above their own come as strident yellows,
Richest apricots, stealth in forest greens, and in their mirrors’ prisms others
In the rainbow’s richest hues. Truculence and degradation spawn another
Third, a half note difference that in the hour makes no sense. These fellow
Travellers pause but moments in this place and for all intents
And purposes yield to what they think has come pass. Conclusions
Mount in efforts to remember who it was did this to whom. Confusion
Circumvents the purpose of reunion when their synergies, delayed, are bent,
Distorting content, vanities and what they both have willed:
A blindness in the heart and mind and precious certitude is stilled.
