I.

O Soul---
     rise, rise to me

     like rough spurs
of ocean face!

accordingly so,
empty handed, empty minded,

the restless Sun runs wild on my breast;
        and grace---
grace not mercy,
but wind-wrecked birds
       above my brow,
dancing in the sky galvanized
by temperamental hope,

burning hope and fear,
trembling fear and notched rods
        through the bottom valley
to devour my senses and,
sons and daughters vomited;
       forgotten,

              Sleeping---

He takes away light!

II.

Be light, not yet taken and
rise to life; sleeping bones, the ashes,
          the leaves, the breath.
hear me, cosmic symphony
and the nameless, formless multiplicity
of polarities; nakedness collapses

Unto He who churns the ladle
         of the universe axis
in circles borne towards Zion;
wingbeats and trumpets proclaim:
         an unfathomable beauty

For there is no tomorrow
but today, and today,
    eyes on the torrential flow
           eyes on the vanishing
                eyes on the womb
eyes on me---
engulf me,

crash against me.