Medallions
Moon bezels a rain of stained glass medallions,
the sky streaks black through a lattice of roses,
we compass the night's arc petalling a low bell.
We pendulum wind to river beneath a vast bird
close to our devotion, the moon acanthus pillars
a still lamp for the vigil you ember on my eyes.
Moon bezels a rain of stained glass medallions,
the sky streaks black through a lattice of roses,
we compass the night's arc petalling a low bell.
We pendulum wind to river beneath a vast bird
close to our devotion, the moon acanthus pillars
a still lamp for the vigil you ember on my eyes.
The Glass Cascades
White buildings terrace onto atrium gardens,
plum and roses vine the transparent landings.
We repose below streaming willows in the air,
we read a helix of leaves on the branches,
light simplifies the knotted ribbon in your hands.
We watch the clear sky spire to the midday gate,
the glass balcony cascades a river of soft fruit,
opal globes drape from the cornice of living birds.
We mark our departures on the polished stairs,
we manuscript the remnants of this lucid space.
White buildings terrace onto atrium gardens,
plum and roses vine the transparent landings.
We repose below streaming willows in the air,
we read a helix of leaves on the branches,
light simplifies the knotted ribbon in your hands.
We watch the clear sky spire to the midday gate,
the glass balcony cascades a river of soft fruit,
opal globes drape from the cornice of living birds.
We mark our departures on the polished stairs,
we manuscript the remnants of this lucid space.
The Stone Sun
River rise the stone sun launches into morning,
sidereal domes build upon interior domes
until the opening sky astounds with daylight
lifted on pillars, a halo of fire
inscribes the red palimpsest at your center,
sky changes the color of light through the diamond,
a thousand kestrels carry the crown to your head.
White hyacinth banners follow the silver choir,
a jeweled chair covers the labyrinth floor,
orchids and lilies catch at the hem of your robes,
a beryl sphere emerges from the earth of your hands
where a fruit tree hovers our shading,
the crystal pitch remains in this weightless span,
I draw the pure water from flowers of glass.
sidereal domes build upon interior domes
until the opening sky astounds with daylight
lifted on pillars, a halo of fire
inscribes the red palimpsest at your center,
sky changes the color of light through the diamond,
a thousand kestrels carry the crown to your head.
White hyacinth banners follow the silver choir,
a jeweled chair covers the labyrinth floor,
orchids and lilies catch at the hem of your robes,
a beryl sphere emerges from the earth of your hands
where a fruit tree hovers our shading,
the crystal pitch remains in this weightless span,
I draw the pure water from flowers of glass.
The Sky Rivers
We lift a cup of blood and water, the sky rivers,
crystal candles hang from branches above the fountain,
the skin of the surface gems emerald and nectarine,
bright to the day, we praise the knot of flame,
the sun strands flower to illumine your oracle hand.
Sun shelters the silent world of our words’ longing,
we float on stone beads in the shallow,
we bruise on fragile rushes, the glass sky bleeds the water.
We lift a cup of blood and water, the sky rivers,
crystal candles hang from branches above the fountain,
the skin of the surface gems emerald and nectarine,
bright to the day, we praise the knot of flame,
the sun strands flower to illumine your oracle hand.
Sun shelters the silent world of our words’ longing,
we float on stone beads in the shallow,
we bruise on fragile rushes, the glass sky bleeds the water.
John Swain lives in Le Perreux-sur-Marne, France. His most recent chapbook, The Daymark, appeared at Origami Poems Project.
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