I held my child's hand down to the grave And traced his comet's roaring going with my breath, Sorrowing sorrow until the sea's moon gave Its thousand salt prayers up in sprays 5 Scattering the brine-shrived gulls on the shingle To spread stars aloft, and each a different way, As the waves fell down from their mingle And found a thousand moons in their crossways splash And told my broken, washed heart hush. 10 O I was a dying moon in the ocean's rove And with her million wants my wants still move, To her breaking crescent I still squeak my eye That dissolves in her fabulous crooks; Locked frost-cursed in my own godawful life 15 I freezed grieving past midnight's strife, Until night on a moonstruck gravestone broke And harrowing dawn gave my soul a saint's look And shined on all my wonderful lies like love. Out of the four-ways Jordan of my heart 20 Out of the splendid cincture of my pricking ribs Out of the mercury furnaces in my brain Out of my own dear hollow bailiwick rolling I walked stalking my bones' marrow-trail Scouted brawling galaxies from my blind bloods 25 Rode my star-fashioning veins to their black skies-- And, stepping the pulsing pathways of the stars, I took my place among the meteors in the dark.
From the collection "Divine Revolt"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.