Saint Julian Press Poet
Fred LaMotte - Author and Poet
Dawn sitting, I do nothing but listen:
surely the Canada geese will arrive.
It seems I have never heard better news about the universe.
A raindrop allows silence before and after
to annihilate the world.
A robin pierces the space between suns
because she lets go of her songs as she sings them.
The infinite value of now is a worthless copy
one moment later.
Precious sorrow is a jewel this instant,
but a poisoned brooch when I pin it to my chest.
More radiant than diamond my pain,
because I drop it in the pond of forgetting.
Like a hobo, breath wanders, letting go
of the stories people try to pack in its sack.
I lift up a mysterious cup of celebration from my belly button,
spilling stars into my heart.
They ferment into wine, the nectar that makes Jesus drunk;
I pour it on the alter of my forehead.
I share my secret instruction only with the hummingbird:
"Don't wait to be anointed; anoint yourself!"
That is how we become little ones with invisible wings
and luminous infra-red throats.
Andromeda, Virgo, twin spiral Hydra nebulae,
come down like deer to the crown of my head.
They drink from the wells of my temples
and feast in the wilderness of my nerves.
What I am this morning is miraculous medicine.
I am a healing potion swirled from in-gathered galaxies,
from glittering perishing moments of insignificance
Drink from me; be not one moment old.
The stem of my grail is rooted in dark mycelia.
The more you take, the more I am replenished.
The Evergreen State College
Poetry Site: http://thebelovedwithin.blogspot.com/