flickers, sputtering light into
the sodden evening,
signaling in natural language
Flung in glowing code into the sea of grey.
Then the still, unseen black hood
is drawn over his face again.
And we watch the nothingness, suspended--
And he lights again from impossible blackness!
The orange holocost sends again his trembling sign,
I have beaten him!
I have cast off the black hood!
And then then executioner in silence again overcomes him
but for the eye, pinhead of emberous resilience,
looks at us,
until again silently and impossibly,
he thrashes into bright yellow canary wings
beating every way until they become only one peaceful blur
that wavers like a banner
into an upward rising drop.
dripping upward to God.
Coelecense of creation.
in constant solemn liturgy
brilliant against the sea of numb black.
as he sucks the sweat smell of caramel, or beezwax
from his roots,
and gushes the fragrances like a fountain
geysered into the empty universe...
and then he is once again gone.
But his eternal ember,
eye of the bengel tiger, like a star
which exists beneath me,
or a pin prick puncture in the drape, drawn against
the midmorning brightness.
Catches my gaze
and holding it...