MAKING LIGHT OF IT

ARK 96, ARCHES XXX

"The silver light
turned every blade of grass,
every particle of sand

into a luminous
metallic splendor; there was
- nothing however small

that did not clash
in the bright wind, that
did not send

arrows of light
through the glassy air"

wrote Ansel Adams!

All night, at golden hive
busiest of Being
lustrous intelligence

cast throughout darkness
tackling the eternal
bluest guitar

set against Time

roll back yr mortal lids,

sentry of statuary

innumerable numinosities

mind set ajar;

thru wildering gyre

throat aloft, afloat -

truths to the World's edge

grace amazing tell

outside the door

red wheelbarrow glint rain,

Anyone might see it

let up the blinds

as sap mount into tree

scribed lark in jubilation

magnetic, torch antiphony

tail universe end/on

waltz seasons all four

death sweet be not yet,

I tread the stars

in perilous anatomy

over bottomless pit

only intricater;

I thread evolving Heaven

"nequamquam vacuum"

flamestitch I symmetries:

weaver oriole's nest

I construct ahive

suns one can't gaze upon

surpassing foresight,

only Hand with Language

nothing unknowable

fate, the Undoer

home everlasting

(memory, tenacious anemone)

await composer Sword

(all screenshots from 50 Feet of String by Leighton Pierce)