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... this Alchemy of Awe, in every meaning of the rook
that sweetest sap, those sunless innards, oh my, a favourite book
that runs from roots within my chest,
and seeps to branch and leaves of Wonder,
to where it is that I still ponder ... is let
to this pen and writes with words of Love
on wings of letters to your eyes reflecting all the world ...

In a thousand letters, graceful cranes bow in majesty,
looking toward ends to the travesty of feudal man.
If your eyes reflected the world would they bleed?
Would they not drown in a neediness toward blindness?
Would they stare into wishing pools gently rippling;
trembling at the coins tossed
yearning for a pebbled bottom less crippled?


:siteless