I
I have seen an
Aztec owl, kissed by the eternal
kaleidoscope of morning,
robed in Yellow air
Light escapes its hungry beak
and joins the Sun in harmony,
break of day rekindles the brickwork of archaic memory,
The Owl has lantern eyes which have witnessed innumerable births,
-and the cultivating of this cherry-wreathed Valley, where we eat and
write music for the soil's tender womb
Opal condolensces for sleep
and sadness, the Owl gifts a necklace embroidered with apology, coiled 'round your neck, in times of gladness and tragedy
II
...and do not fear, for cradle, ring, and tomb
all repeat in cosmic fashion
(you will eventually return here, to the sea, you always have)
Remember the attic where youth was stored away, to be replaced with exotic patterns, coral bulbs, cotton and laughter
There, lay a glasswork child for your chest to keep safe. Your past. Your past of plums and skirted dancers, desert glow, Caribbean sleep.
(your mind rests its quiet curtains, but the classical radio station can still be heard)
III
An owl of sunset mosaics
enters your dream, illuminating
the revisitation to a Mexico City
that was flooded for Mountains
..soon to recede and quake, when Winter's spirit fades once more, there you will unearth
Tenochtitlan.
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 11:41 PM UTC
I
I have seen an
Aztec owl, kissed by the eternal
kaleidoscope of morning,
robed in Yellow air
Light escapes its hungry beak
and joins the Sun in harmony,
break of day rekindles the brickwork of archaic memory,
The Owl has lantern eyes which have witnessed innumerable births,
-and the cultivating of this cherry-wreathed Valley, where we eat and
write music for the soil's tender womb
Opal condolensces for sleep
and sadness, the Owl gifts a necklace embroidered with apology, coiled 'round your neck, in times of gladness and tragedy
II
...and do not fear, for cradle, ring, and tomb
all repeat in cosmic fashion
(you will eventually return here, to the sea, you always have)
Remember the attic where youth was stored away, to be replaced with exotic patterns, coral bulbs, cotton and laughter
There, lay a glasswork child for your chest to keep safe. Your past. Your past of plums and skirted dancers, desert glow, Caribbean sleep.
(your mind rests its quiet curtains, but the classical radio station can still be heard)
III
An owl of sunset mosaics
enters your dream, illuminating
the revisitation to a Mexico City
that was flooded for Mountains
..soon to recede and quake, when Winter's spirit fades once more, there you will unearth
Tenochtitlan.
