Doves

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5 poems, Bjorn, Dec 8-9

 

Constellation

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Constellation,

i’ve known now

a new constellation.

 

Strung orion’s bow to pleides

Stripped the spaces between

North and south

Dip to dipper

Flung filigree fecund

Under a nameless star.

Purloined;

 

A new constellation

Called;

 

Dove with Legs

 

 

 

Portrait

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Future’s painters

Sop-still love retribution

And longer future’s

Still deep receive

Relieves light its play

In formative portray

But mostly play:

In portraiture

 

Perchance the world

Begins first:

Seeing ourselves

Seeing ourselves;

And painters

They’re likely to be

Molds, casts, a familiar

Portrait pointing

;In with God:

Among faces familiar

Smiling in the mirror

Braving an unbridled

Reflection, still

On moving:

Water, paint, cars, windows, eyes

 

We blink

Open a new era

Perceptions set

Love, dotted

Coalesce, us –

 

Forgiveness

 

 

 

Liturgy

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I’m not just writing any poems

These poems are it;

Elusive it,

And every one of and us

Altogether:

Thinking, some sequencing;

Dreaming, some feeling;

Geniusing, all one:

 

God is light,

God is love,

God is.

 

 

 

Rosary key

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Rosary key

Beads the broken lock

Never locked

Safekeeping who could

who’s living in every

Shimmer light

Eyesight

Tonight

 

Rosary key

Beading me:

Sea

To

endless

Sea

 

Rosary key

Beads me to she

 

With God

There is no

Inbetween

 

So it seems

My bluer hours

Have quelled

 

 

In field

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In the field

Or in a field

We find

Driving nowhere

Theres no love

Driving everywhere

Where there is love

Driving everyone

Into who

Could be loveless

With all this

 

All this love

For some fields smote

Some’ve pumpinked

 

Youre my bed of ink

Just dreaming

Only of you

Only of love

The field’s

doves glow