Poem 164: Stone Grave

in this epitaph for the flesh,
the flesh is made word
and the word heavy with light
collapsing with the patience
of a determined star
slides off the edge of a leaf
and thunders into the chosen
streams and green caverns
of the underground web
that marries water
with the stately earth
carried deep
into the heart of the captive rock
riven and fragile as the sun
dreaming in its own velvet shadow
of the blue roaring
citadel keeper dragon
bound and lost
in the beauty and safety
of its own armour
wounded in the heat
and desolation of its own sorrow
but redeemed
in the breath and sight of his own fire
now risen up and
singing in his own light
as clear and blindingly bright
as the second coming
here in this death defying
ark of shattered time
turning on this spit of clay
and fire filling this tomb
with a dividing darkness
that leaning into light
will later become
a dividing light
leaning into a darkness
that will fill this tomb
with the absence of false light.