Friday, November 12, 2004


The notes connect me to a human
continuum that stretches back to the Awakening,
each melody dripping the blood of players past,
every one in the audience,

I feel their weight in my breath,
steady gazes challenging me
to abandon math,
abandon myself to love…

…and they take wing like mayflies
emerging from a river

condensing into movement
of lips and hands
of hips and magic wands

flutter about the room,
landing on tables, in hair,
clinging exhausted to clothes,
drunk on the euphoria of flight

fly into ears to lay eggs
larvae growing into associations,
feeding on memories of cigarette smoke,
weak beer, the colour of your eyes

spiral away
their small yellow songs, our oxygen
a flash of rapture
a nameless but beheld resurrection

1 comment:

paula said...

Fine one, Ranger. Like the formatting, too; second half has great movements and music.