1989
“...surrounded by choral rings...”
1.
The “C” before the chorus,
the panorama unfolding
run-on, texts of time,
heads tumbling, roll
through shell’s spiraled
drawing, a Zuni's
woven chevron is presented.
hatching
ascending twirl
then, like gods
become symbols,
degeneration to religious
tracings, far from
original experience.
I’m packing up my paints and brushes,
going out to paint
just appearances
again, at Barcelona Neck.
2.
A cosmos of rings, beyond
a circle of flowers, here.
This present clarity is a
sacred moment,
a moment soon to be
remembered, framing
this presence, the past
and emerging future.
3.
Someone stands up!
with fire
immediate
hard won, delineated shapes...
4.
A flower rises
romantically
through the rings
of water
downward
reaching
upward
inside-- out
some order
to that moment, seen.
A clear
moment
in the flower,
here!
(God) or reality through imagination
defines and completes us.
(God) is really all these thoughts ordered
possibilities of conceiving--
14.
One lily dies, another wakes.
the earth spins the future--
as flowers, present themselves.
15.
Dreams coming to fruition
a centered place blooms,
it is high noon!
the gods revived, then dying
all in turning--
shells whirling, swoosh--
Goya-hatch, cycling by, striped
waiting
hope in the dark.
flowers to ideas
rising from within--
then, a rustling of the reeds,
the waves lap,
the wind bristles
tweet-- whistle,
over there!
flashing,
flag of presence!
22.
Painting this still life,
the shells on the beach
the sunflowers against the sky
a rope weaving circles to bind
in the failing sun.
Clouds passing overhead
the narrow islands weather,
the difference between
bay and ocean mind,
bells ring on swells.
Everything is broken,
a man in black turns--
washing my brushes, “I’m done.”
the reeds
blaze red, in silhouette.
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