Wide Open Swan Eyes

December 27 & 28, 2009

Wide open swan eyes:
it is early morning,
the sun is hanging its hair across meadows
who are pleasing grazing white cattle,
weaving its loose lockets throughout vines,
underground caverns and clay furnace shores…

There was a time
when gold lay on top of the ground,
when gods pulled fruit from the seed
and not its inevitable did-blossom tree limbs,

There was a time
when gold lay on top of the ground,
when gods kissed one another
for the first time,
when lips were brand new
and glowing red cooling crystal touch
moved mountains
to slide inside each other,
and volcanoes to build islands from those
magma instigations…

There was a No-time when soil was an idea;
yes, first, it was a formless lover being,
revolving around a precious view
of God’s quarter open eyes,

There was a No-time when stones were
rainbow outlines and God’s living pencil cup
undulated with liquid diamond orgasms,

And pearl opalescence rolled,
laminating kiss to kiss
and womb to lighthouse,

And lovers bathed eternally
as Water Elementals flowing
from first-formed-clouds,
who were also mother, father
and spirit-we reflections
from a void that to this day knows no fear,
no death, no elation cessation
and no knowledge that knowledge exists…

Here is a time when we walk
and speak the often unknowing shedding
of galactic snake skins,
holy habit mind coatings
who bear and bear,
more and more,
ushering and ushering,
bright white feathers to blow-wave
out from unbeneath their hiss crisscrossed,
scaled films watching themselves now
being lightly lifted up in skinny whirlwinds
whittling-waltzing vertically across
fields of smooth sod
while seeds are pause-yawning
for a monsoon’s breastplate to unhinge…

Here is a place
where towers of crystal keep vats
of virgin milk glow
and send vibratory-tactile
into an Earth-way
whose thanksgivings are spilling
with melting snow rivulets,
monarch butterfly swarms
and honey oozing
from an awakened grizzly bear’s chin…

Here is a place
where the thighs of lovers uniting
are flashing from being solid amethyst
and warm-to-the-second-touch fire opal,
to breathing in unison as great whirlpools,
one made of water context
and the other is its invisible
solid conical
that it liquidly churn-circlets around,
dizzy splashing and birthing purple seals
who have new planets for eyes
and whiskers made of living
green growing jade,
seahorses wearing crowns
that at each of their golden design peaks
are holding an unborn archangel’s halo,
and starfish who are stars attached to
light pink blushed moaning coral reefs,
a whole plateau of all Yeses…

There was a time
when gold lay on top of the ground,
when gods were skeptical of nothing
and eternal-engraved Love into trusting
the god-formation of Doubt,

There was a time
when gold lay on top of the ground,
when the dice God rolled were always
blank ones and Love would happy stop
their tumbling for the cosmic fun of it,
tossing them back so to receive again…