Wooed tricky streams and felt up trees.
Each strange leaf honored and many kissed,
We sipped perfect water and pissed in peace.
Insects embroidered music; light was an animal
Little but not weak that played hide-and-seek.
We pretended to argue and were almost sincere
Or more than sincere in bartering praise.
It is unchangeable fact that air adored our lungs—
And awed on a tall but considerate stone
We were instructed by color, the costume of the sky.
Since then our brains like acrobats,
Trained in secret, in gaudy caves
Have sometimes been loyal, have sometimes betrayed;
Our flesh sometimes failed; fear turned expert.
Death or shame is a judge who won’t forget;
Who insists on a decision though we soar from jail
In recklessly innocent, half-honest joy.
Despite the crime of our clumsiness,
We remember the silver,
The purity of delight,
Synesthesia and sinlessness,
The unstained yearning
Of our voices sustained
By undeceived inconceivable
Blessable air.
In the mystical mistiness
Of our blue mellow mountain
We yet track the trickiness
Of streams green as grass.
We still follow the untreacherous
Unfailing glow of air.
Does cruelty rule? Have our hearts changed to ash?
But the tall altar stands! The music remains!
© Stephen Margulies, 2016
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| Blue Ridge Mountains Photo by Jürgen Nagel from Wikimedia Commons |
