TRIBAL…

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TRIBAL

Elegant traceries of the far spheres
Orbit gently throughout soft black.
A violet band opens clearly on the horizon
To look closely through eyes bright and long.
Take solace in fear, hoping power
Shapes fortunate in the far sky.
At night, plunging deeply beyond
Vivid, chromatic sanctuary, the stars
Dust brightly my eyes, my chest,
Beating heart bearing the ends
Of all things, both ecstatic and suffering.
Evening evokes the eternal solitude
Of long light at the moment of perception.
The feathers of ritual, white, perpetual,
Rippling on the brows of dancing figures,
Take torturous turnings and visual burnings –
Fire, livid, seminal, beatific to
The core of fear, tastes slowly
A finely laid, consumable perfection.

Peter Gardner 5/28/04

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