Exposed In the Dawning Woods

In the Woods, before the light,
The birds sing out
Their mattins choral possessive.

The unreal wisps of night's persisting fog,
Like muffled ghosts, drift
Across the pond in masquerade.

Cormorant pulls his bullish horn,
And the bugs that delight in the dark
Provide white-noise, a treble relief.

Light edges out the quailing shadows,
As details manifest in day reborn; above,
Apollo's fiery crown issues from Aurora's womb.

Embrace this child, make it your beauty,
For soon enough your senses fail.
Perhaps, if heaven is, I'll recall this mome'.

Ah, the ancient see - saw ethereal:
Between the essential now, here with me,
And the anticipation of looking back to now.

Distinct pleasure: seeing a spider float by
On the near-breeze, hanging on a gossamer skyhook,
Like a swami climbing his mystical rope to nowhere,
So inviting for your fancy - so impossible to follow.

Distinct memory: earlier spiders just so, floating past my canoe,
Carried onto the broad Chickamauga Lake, then dropped windless;
Scurrying 'cross the surface, tiny dancers on the waves,
'Til a leg, slicing the surface tension, sucks the creature to its doom.

The horror: spiders lost to the waves.
Not even attracting any fish
To benefit from the opportunity, to find a meal,
But breaking up and wasting in the murk.

I bike - float on across the bridge, along the path,
Past the honeysuckle, out into the breeze
That carries me 'cross the great waters of my life,
Emerging from the woods, the birds scream to me possessively.

LMC 2 April 1999