“Together”
Each day they add
more marble to our wall,
but what is physically kept away
grows larger in the soul each day.
The lake is frozen.
Black Baikul.
Every time we take a glass from the garden,
the serpent grows another head.
The World doesn’t spin
when the rings inside her don’t extend.
What if we didn’t care
about being
lighter than air
caught in her cherubim’s hair?
For the magician in
the Vermontian woods,
below consciousness,
in a field,
keeps the wild
imbalance between us
still.
Sun in the palm of our hands,
the German Mountain moves
us to tears.
The chariot lifts
the curtain of the night.
The gods hold court around the sacred tree
upon which all the stars dance.
Let us give everything away,
everything,
so that we may cup our hands and drink
her moonlight
together.
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