beauty beauty beauty clunk

Steam in the forest - Miracles

Eyes and hearts and a petals blush

Our nakedness beheld by grace
She clothes our brilliant innocence
Then we fall like snowflakes in the desert
Only to melt in the blazon waves

And what then does the soul become?
The dappled glint of an eagles watch
The periscopic aspect in the surface tension
Of a happy raindrop
The upstroke of a heartbeat which can’t hold its breath

Under the weight of the blood

Beating wantonly in the presence of its unrequittant

Cathectic - Objet d’amour, O love!

 

She, the soul, is like moonshine

Pulling the waves of He, the stricken lover’s, ardent desire
Up from the depths of the ocean
In turn that they may become enmeshed 
Among the salted amber, jade and jetstone
Splashed out on the insatiable beach

That’s what she becomes

The iridescent, dappled soul
An ephemeral, phosphorescent, intangible, elusive, mythical beauty
The very kind which makes the ground of ones being
Quake with total consecration as awareness unfolds
The kind which utterly immerses you
In the course of a moment
The kind which infects the reason
Like a bullet full of sunlight
And then stays in the body, having opened up our lies
To feed the subsequent flowering
With redolent benediction and eternal fidelity.

And we rise and fall in elliptical precisions
Defined and formed by these movements and rhythms
We are like comets dispersing our glory
In mystical trails
Which only science can fully describe
And only a child can truly perceive
The dragons flashing tail, the faeries delicate wings
The intricate anthropomorphosism of created things
Those hipster, hirsute hemispheres
In the head of Baudelaire
And my Son’s limitless Truth 
and useless
Beauty, 
Beauty, 
Beauty, 
Beauty!
Everywhere.

02/05/09