Paired down in heaven, the hawk-eyed sun
Gleaming bitterly through five limbs sees
The jeweled moon behave despondently-
Say from man dream beats the foam and bleeds
Like Prometheus sullen prose on infinite Oregons.

Take from your time the frost-eyed sun altogether
Staring sharply through a blind and smoldering world,
A love of truths so tried and secret.

Shall we in mercy take our gains under the rose-lit morning
A trial for time and truest?
Sense for the sun is swimming in our heart
A love of radio and silence.

Bleached like my Albatross,
Come in quiet a world safest
That burns black embers
In the woods of our soul since forever
And sound.

Sound down the heavens
In the silent hour of their hell,
The tide of time on a bone-white beach.

From what high altar looking in his place,
God of man,
The god-man and holy to his place
To forge the eye of seasons,
Seven in their number,
And stretch out solitude
On the blistered ground.

Shared down in source,
The last of the kings,
Holy in his crown
Of bodies that smile
So wide and honest each.