Oh I, that day–

when first that fierceness flashed into view,

circling loops in cascading centrifuge,

power in variegated plumes plunging

from the sun into shadow, laconically splitting

the vernal vault–and I at the vortex–

as earthward his errand dropping, empyreal,

from instantaneous lunge to litheful landing,

the gift here gathered in dun-grievance.


Oh I, like him–

to burn, roil, and blaze with brash

and ravenous exaltation, to rave and revel

in ecstasy at God’s extravagance: expunge

gray, gangrenous glooming for light,

life, virilant love, and lustrous,

voracious, baptismal-vast vitality.


1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “Tercelet

  1. Lorilie

    Ah – GMH would be proud, I think!

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