Monday, April 2, 2012

3541. A'FIRE

A'FIRE
Without a throb, lest to lose control,
there wasn't any part of me left untended.
I lifted my arms high and reached far cupboards
of plenty : meanings and infiltrations, new degrees
of learning, and resounding voices running on.
-
Lighting a new candle, unwrapping the filter,
scalding the edges, the room I filled with a sudden
and bright illumination I could only think I'd reached.
Indeed, had William Blake right then entered, we'd
both be engaged deeply in talking this out.
-
Outside the fifth-floor window, this artist-loft living
was invisible. No one knew, by looking up, what
went on inside. I'd stretched the canvases and
gesso'd the surfaces and was  -  indeed  -  now
ready to start. The red of crimson and the deep rich
of ultramarine. My colors to heart I took.
-
Had I pencil of thick gold, I could no better
sketch the wondrous lines from out your face;
like God, posing upon some mantelpiece
of eternal glimmer and endless light, it's
really a simple place and a simple fate.

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