Beauty is a ring of smoke in an ivy sky...
Rise...you do...rise up high,
Wind,oh,Wind,wherever you lie,
Watch it rise,watch it...fly...
Pity the December Green Lake ice,
Burn it cant,smoke,not its accomplice,
Breathe against it,a smoky breathe,misted
In droplets of Life.
Bellows on the willows,
Encircled and abandoned them,
To tickle the leaves.
Watch it learn...
With the doleful hoot of an owl through the boughs--
Rearing a mast,an anchor unearthed,
To the music of a sea,sailed a dingy,
Just Married,it says.
Clouds of this earth,swinging in the sails.
Baleful winds,watch from afar,
Watch the blood of a burning star.
Love and Light,
All in sight,
Sing to their joys,
Love and Light.
A dingy of willow-leaf,
Where ant sleeps,
Rest is all they need.
Before its journey on the Wind,
---Or was it Smoke?--
Staggers and halts,
Its again soiled
Home to the creepers and weeds.
Then the dingy stops again,
Wind is no more,in the tranquil ocean.
The air smells of nothing at all.
Dried is the rain.
Lightyears bloat to measure the dingy.
To see what the sailors cant see.
The distance,the loss,the silence that cries...
At night,with the wind in its hair.
Dawn--the Sun burns in its glare,
Whatever dewdrops remained...
Upon Their foreheads,scorchmarks paint,
Their Fate is in the beauty of the Smoke.
Did you cry when it rose...
Far below....the ivy sky,
Far below where the wind lies,
Far below,Wind,where you can see,
A fire crackles.