Singing the Song of the Green World
From any pause, any place or point in time, it opens out, deep
Though … not down; not deep. Behind is it? Or within?
So thin, this fine line that skims like the swift
quickly passing its final reflection of flight over the still waters.
We float there,
each in our vessel of selfhood
entranced, in the interchange of light and shadow which,
like litmus paper,
flares responsive to the pH of our engagement.
Meanwhile beneath this (or behind? below?)
From some place we cannot place,
Dimensions sway back and forth.
Like the strings of a harp plucking octaves from the air,
realising form; the dragonfly
the gleaming throb of its body poised fragile, pulsing its wings
in the sunlight.
Sunlight! Just that alone that fills a garden entirely, with green
light, and gold.
Within the influence of this sphere through a long alchemy of
Substance transformed, how many lives refined into and out of
Metabolites compounding possibilities,
plants breathing volatile couplings, creating clouds, fixing
carbon in the dark, moulding space, making shaping our world,
without which we would not have emerged into the limelight
we now insist on.
We’ve allotted to ourselves an aloofness.
We are afraid. Afraid to die, with the skilled sharpness of our
scrutiny we cut away. Analysing things taken apart
we have lost sight of what holds them together.
Even though our eyes have been trained latterly to a dry view,
obscuring our hearts
we too are spinning on this fulcrum
that fuels, funds, unfurls, exclaims, exults!
Renewing now, now and now, constant, at each instant
the birth of living forms, through the dark tunnel of love.
Crystals, uniquely forming
self-arranging in accord each along the lines of their invisible
lattices: or how,
in the early hours of day suspended, trembling hearts answer
to one call.
Spark water into fire.
We too are being tried. We are vessels being fired
in the fierce rays of our rising star, iron and clay,
quenched, when the silver wealth of the rain comes thronging
laying to rest the dust of which we are a part
you and I both, releasing the drought, to fulfil the desire
of all singing the Green World song
we do belong, we do, we belong.