TO CARPET THE FLOOR OF THE WORLD by Christian Wallace
we must have leaves!
Winter strip naked the trees – the leaves to perfect Earth.
bless the fungus tracing vermiculate patterns
on drying death of crackling plant
Little leaf, you tremble with murmur of mystery.
listen—the leaves
the pulse that rippled the water sacred,
pulse that split the mountain holy,
pulse that ached inside the land,
that throbbed in mind and flesh of ancient man
O and how the leaves have known!
the sun as battery before bastard science
bottled rays for power line skies – towers
of light like spears in the belly of night
Rider of wind, tiny skeleton truth,
gutter-monger, sidewalk friend,
a living cog inside cycle at peace with seasons
(you are the question to all answers:
be it so brief?)
giver of life-breath, our meeting
stretches to eternity…
to mulch—return now as all man shall
meet again the worms
inside absolute shadow,
inside shades of time
deeper than any color of Autumn.
//ww
Winter strip naked the trees – the leaves to perfect Earth.
bless the fungus tracing vermiculate patterns
on drying death of crackling plant
Little leaf, you tremble with murmur of mystery.
listen—the leaves
the pulse that rippled the water sacred,
pulse that split the mountain holy,
pulse that ached inside the land,
that throbbed in mind and flesh of ancient man
O and how the leaves have known!
the sun as battery before bastard science
bottled rays for power line skies – towers
of light like spears in the belly of night
Rider of wind, tiny skeleton truth,
gutter-monger, sidewalk friend,
a living cog inside cycle at peace with seasons
(you are the question to all answers:
be it so brief?)
giver of life-breath, our meeting
stretches to eternity…
to mulch—return now as all man shall
meet again the worms
inside absolute shadow,
inside shades of time
deeper than any color of Autumn.
//ww