The Magpie nests, a nefarious thief.
Takes tin from various containers
in the reef of brick & mortar.
Do you remember the agonies of love
& the din of celestial birds?
Winter is ending & the ice
is singing, learned, at the water's edge.
Shards piled up like ashes
from the fires. The iron taste that's in your mouth
the flavor of the bridges, tunnels & yards & rising
wonders. Spray-marked etchings,
the lilting echoing of sorrowful mysteries.
Warblings for creeping & ballads for weeping
crucify intentions & speculate on the resurrection
of hopes that shiver under plastic like mighty wings
outspread with crowning pins & needles
arching across backs & arms o'erstreched.
Pluck a shining bauble, secret
it within your heart. Nestle
dreams of was & never was
of has & never had.
Every party has a bride, a corpse
& a heart'll ache with the glories
of this world, with the gifts of devotion.
Bright ghosts & sharp beaks
by the 34th street train by the building
where doves escaped from windows
& cast ravens on the walls.
A revelation in flesh & divine consecration
of this world a vast & inconceivable rose
rooted deep & feeding on the void.
The noise will bloom luminous
& boom so loud it whitewashes
sound into silence.
The baubles & the tin
will be melted where they lay
in center loosed prayer.
& that Light, ever expanding,
will bleach our hollow bones to brightness
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http://zuewaldo.deviantart.com/art/DOVE-SHADOW-206789825
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