his cloud


the elements do not wait
flows and forces natural are momentous
they are not reason's allies
and so apprehension of their
wills and patterns is in some ways
an absurdity

being aware
being attuned to this
too
is requisite
in seeking to be
conscious

... what star throws my sail 'cross these seas
and 'long these night-hushed trails

it is fragrant earthy smoke
that we yet breathe of his closeness
and too the taste of his form,
of every part and all
the full cup of those fine graces
a perfect cloud
to mock dream with root and substance
.... and leave our senses in the ripples


carlos
june 2007