fugue in minor themes.

FUGUE IN MINOR THEMES.


eyes open.
sky mirrors back,
pale blue, washed in silver
Drifting, white
mares' tails in the heights
or salmon scattered pearl-scales
as the sun shines, shines...


Eyes follow skies
mind-cracking dawns' first blazon
in white, its always white
yet molten gold.
Skies random, lifeless, glorious
teaches mind divine things;
Always the lonely are most beautiful.

Eyes looking up
Leaves in weird tracery
edged in neons harsh glare
A puzzle of still patterns
like a standing prayer
hanging there.
Never so green at night
all smoothed and still
yet washed, waiting, waiting....
so mind likes them.

I see the deep oceans
dark and troubled, half frozen
in the hearts of every man.
And on the sere cliffs above
that sentinel black Ram.
Looks down, the ruler in death
Waiting on man.

Rocks settle warm in the hot glare
It is day. Kind, smooth rocks.
We walk on them.
Grey, round, huge with forgotten time.

Earth, water, wind and light.
Men crowd for comfort
crowding their little fires.
In this dark, which can see?
Gods are crowned with pretty blue lightnings.
Their truths like hard flint strikes;
sparks in this braining heart
my own sweet silver chimings.



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I WOULD APPRECIATE COMMENTS/OPINIONS ABOUT THIS POEM. ITS MEANT TO BE DALI - esque. YOUR FRIEND, GERRY.