“On Through”

**The last poem (2002?) of a time that no longer is around. But reminds me of now, too**






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Scales of time enter heartily along the circles of sun;

Downing dragons muddle
like housewives to the jostle of a conspicuous beating.

The throngs of life upon the wet shores of
operatic earth.

Tripping seconds as does the air in our ears – sweet with mindful relations
comatose rapture and ceasing beatitudes.

Look up and away
fall down and kick your skies together:
Trace palms not inward to withstanding but outward
past green battalions of leaves,
our sleeping spirits caress in misty trees
on through, on through.

On through dead earth
on through fire
on through the shock of wombs,
on through, on through.

On through all madness
on through forms of God
on through grace invisibly,
on through, on through.

On through time
on through the sleep
on through the dream,
on through, on through.