Forthcoming.
Not for public viewing
On Death

What are you, Death?
not some sightless terror at endings.
I suspect you have no sting,
old splinter in the heart of love 

though love would need you
as a nail for a cross 

cross and nail and Christ 
all love of sorts.

So where would you go?
 thief of loved ones,
much-maligned seed of beginnings,
unknowable horizon,
ear-whisperer of the infinite
terror of endings.
You would go
to a greater whole
of which you're inseparably part.
For shapes without space
and age without time
or nails without crosses
cannot be, cannot signify.
Death, you are love's
very vehicle* – 
spirit, soul and soil made sign.

[Instrumental passage]
You would go
to a greater whole
of which you're inseparably part.
For shapes without space
and age without time
or nails without crosses
cannot be, cannot signify.
Death, you are love's
very vehicle* – 
spirit, soul and soil made sign.
Run me around the mulberry,
handful of plums, and chasing me;
a whispering from the clerestory –
you're leaving
your children and your home
A mote in your eye perceived as me;
the beam in your dad's fidelity
diffracting in splinters, hazing me.
Unseeing,
unbeing and alone.
A mote in your eye perceived as me;
the beam in your dad's fidelity
diffracting in splinters, hazing me (speared interference!).
Unseeing,
unbeing and alone.

Run me around the mulberry,
handful of plums, and chasing me;
but a whispering from the clerestory says
you're leaving
your children and your home

[Interlude; transformation of main motif]**
For shapes without space
and age without time
or nails without crosses
cannot be, cannot signify.
Death, you are love's
very vehicle – 
spirit, soul and soil made sign.

* Contains a musical quotation from "Career in Shaping Clay" by the Most Serene Republic, that includes the lines:
"How distorted must it be
Before fuzz commons acoustic sea?"


** Contains a musical quotation from "Sun is Still Shining" by the Moody Blues, that includes the line:
"Waiting for rebirth"

There are Lights in the Trees
There are lights in the trees,
lanterns that catch the wind
and rise up into the dusk.
Between branches of jacaranda
and behind scattered stars,
A vast luminosity
lingers and grows above – 
a darkness, alive,
and terrible as eternity.
But below the dwindling lights
we lie on grass,
dry and gentle.
A warm whisper of wind
blows woodfire and jasmine.
The air cools and descends.
But upwards through vaults
of atmosphere I glance,
and the stars steal our breath
and our minds
until intention is lost
and self abandoned
before the terrible joy
of eternity.