Unfolding into itself, inviolable
in prosaic self-*******,
a boundless repertoire
of shape yearns forth surreptitiously
from inscrutable amniotes to claim
time as its own:

  Here a thicket
  of sycamores, there a baldaquin
    of pinnate branches, yonder
      a periphery of marigolds, below
        a cacophony of hyraxes, above
    the corpuscle of a lynx, the mid-flight
   jink of a darting swift and moribund
  crawl of a mollusk;

     Hymenoptera coaxing
     their haploid broods into teeming
     life as a cell of the swarm
         and viviparous apes cajoling
         suckling chimerae at the fathomless
         fountainhead of a rosy breast;

       Higher still,
       Cirrus cephalopods traversing
       the trench of sky, dandelions
       hitch-hiking the drift of a barren plains'
       wavering hum on cockchafers'
       forewings and a turbine's
       bombinating pulse, the chattering
       of roots ravenous for depth --

Jittering bangtails the hallowed echoes
of lascivious manes --

   inchoate sprout-hood the daedal
   nonage of towering evergreens --

      the plaintive shrift of elegiac
      redbreasts a goad to silent elation --

A likeness unlike
     (vocabularies of vertiginous blinds)
          (the eyes of ignorance closing)
             (the mouth of the mystery)
                that spurns the truth of tongues

                     is nature naturing.

Broadwing whorl
Rise light through morning mist
Disaggregated flock among the trees;
Lift sun-drawn with the thermal
Plume and talon
To the cloud,
Swarm swirling
Hawks
Together through the shaft.

Fill the airy mortsleam,
Stream southward from the brim,
Pour pinnate spiral spilling 'cross the sky;
Defy dispersing magnet of the earth
Wing skyward down,
Flow river in the sky to nether lands.

Let water fall
forlorn down,

cascade sorrowful
past perpetual loss

sourced from wellsprings
that saturate pinnate lines

and sustain interstitial spaces
of silent missensed mourning.

Let sensate streams buoy
and suffuse afresh to rise

fertile, fecund, fulfilled.
Now wash the withered

and woeful
past away.​

Talking of the character
and morality, a smoke
rises. To arms.

Butterflies, and
waterfalls. I stand between
the two to take a
look at the last clouds.

On the date palms
my future lives. The pinnate pair
rips apart the poems
of merciless summer.

Burning hands will-
pick up the dented heart.
No more blood was left
in the twisted veins.

Coming out of the woods,
I hand over my moons
to you, for a blue kiss.