721

Behind Me—dips Eternity—
Before Me—Immortality—
Myself—the Term between—
Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,
Dissolving into Dawn away,
Before the West begin—

’Tis Kingdoms—afterward—they say—
In perfect—pauseless Monarchy—
Whose Prince—is Son of None—
Himself—His Dateless Dynasty—
Himself—Himself diversify—
In Duplicate divine—

’Tis Miracle before Me—then—
’Tis Miracle behind—between—
A Crescent in the Sea—
With Midnight to the North of Her—
And Midnight to the South of Her—
And Maelstrom—in the Sky—

297

It’s like the Light—
A fashionless Delight—
It’s like the Bee—
A dateless—Melody—

It’s like the Woods—
Private—Like the Breeze—
Phraseless—yet it stirs
The proudest Trees—

It’s like the Morning—
Best—when it’s done—
And the Everlasting Clocks—
Chime—Noon!

Journeys rendered dateless,
Unending,
Wayward and extending out,
Round the compass points --
Dizzying aspiration to cease this race,
To slow my sprinting soul,
This pace splintering, in exhaustion.

Expiring breath of hope or of home
Evaporated in a distance
Vanishing and
Disconnected.
Drifting
On trackless tides, across
Labyrinthine depths,
Within the vast heart
Of the world
I cannot run from.

Yet, I moved to and between
The center or its peripherals, in
Singular or collectives,
Seeking pattern and
Drawing connectives –-
Brushing by and
Bustling among
People
Entranced In their own
Objectives.

I watched their movements
And their exchanges,
I heard their rituals and
Invocations.
In all these transitions,
They have no inkling
That their seemingly trite
Lives merely manifest
The epic motifs of the heavens!

Our imaginations mirror
The vitality of the gods!
We are as immortal as they!
Our simple, sensual stories
Are also enduring legends
Unfolding,
As our pages turn,
Our flags are unfurling!

Just as our fellow
Olympians of old
Engaged in a marathon of
Endeavor to heights
Unimagined!
From those mystic days
Since Orpheus’ ardent lyre
Sang notes
Of Nature’s divinity, Her
Eternal sweetness.

We need only sense that
It is in Nature’s essence
We are sharing.
With her, we are joined in
An undying marriage,
A unified pairing –
Our human heritage,
Our dignified bearing.

We share in that song,  
We share in that sweetness,
We share in that race,
We share in Her immanence.

This journey is our own.

It goes on, unending!

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste.
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,
And weep afresh love’s long since cancelled woe,
And moan th’ expense of many a vanished sight.
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er
The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
    But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
    All losses are restored and sorrows end.

It's a ship that gets us through the ocean of life when that wave of doubt or unfortunate events falls upon us and we see no way out.

When we're single and need someone to spend those dateless nights with.

When we find ourselves in situations that only a simple call can fix.

When we're bored and want to just laugh at things no one else understands.

When we're old and sad, but hey, even then life is not too bad when you have friendship to get you past-on to the harbor where joy will forever last.

999

Superfluous were the Sun
When Excellence be dead
He were superfluous every Day
For every Day be said

That syllable whose Faith
Just saves it from Despair
And whose “I’ll meet You” hesitates
If Love inquire “Where”?

Upon His dateless Fame
Our Periods may lie
As Stars that drop anonymous
From an abundant sky.

Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep,
A maid of Dian’s this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love
A dateless lively heat still to endure,
And grew a seeting bath, which yet men prove
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
But at my mistress’ eye Love’s brand new-fired,
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
And thither hied a sad distempered guest,
    But found no cure. The bath for my help lies
    Where Cupid got new fire—my mistress’ eyes.

because

on some dateless dawn
away from the mown swath at the edge of the road,
grass tall in the meadow, gold already and leaning, each piece seeming
to whisper some secret one might hear if close enough
as blades nodded in unison towards scrambled trees at the edge of the clearing

i  was a deer there, hiding, feral, eating secrets
for a moment then, free

Crisp summer breeze tickle wreaths of May blooms
Yellow flats traipse blocks where blue ocean looms
Serene waves greet shore's walls in fervent kiss
Moon's afterglow brush the scene in pure bliss

Fine sand witness time like dateless heirlooms
Brine's musk basks nightfall in coastal perfumes
Woven foams' calm poise in fond reminisce
With each cycle's ending, they go amiss

Red heels graze concrete in sultry whispers
As the salt-rimmed glass plays in my fingers
Gotcha!—my hapless victim for tonight

Caught my breath, it only faintly lingers
In front I stand, a door with four ciphers
"Aphrodite, save me" begins the plight