Dawn walks in blue and diamonds
in robes of darkest grain
wind-parted

Sleeping she looked
like a river
Like a river
at dawn,
silver

sliver
of moon, wind

in poplars, flickering

of a candle that grows
imperceptibly
taller as it burns

Manacled girl
naked
surrounded

by flames, gigantic

rose
of painless fire—

Now I have passed through
voice and fire
could I be cleansed
of all
desire,
I don’t think so

Icon: cold gold telepathic eyes

Sacrament of metaphor, sacrament of matter

Aren’t stars almost in your vicinity

It was only the barest beginning starward-
bound, only the March branches, only
the first gifts of the first awakening
waiting
forever
to be born…

Dawn walked in blue and diamonds.