Lately I saw you standing,
brilliant, naked sun everywhere
streaming incandescent photons like
Threads of silver
On your knotted body.
Majestic, silent, patient forest alchemist,
On every visible and invisible frontier
You bestow your patient blessing
and manifest the very ebb and flow
of a breathing God.
O! How the entire universe (my heart)
contracts now that you have
fallen into the openness
With one last thunderous echo!
What final blessing did you bestow,
trembling exquisitely on those last tiny fibers,
awaiting the supreme moment:
the ancient Pull of supernovas?
What can I do now?
Bow in gratitude!
That which passes through everything
Passes through me (Kerouac).
I bow in a suspended moment of that recognition.
Your thunderous echo
bestows upon me
a final blessing, spreading outward
in the delicate arc of your falling grace.
A myriad of spring buds
singing one last alleluia
before the crushing weight
of congealed sunlight forces them
down into the yielding
earth, where galaxies of beings
embrace your return.
In your final act of falling,
I too dive headlong and blind
Into the fierce eye of God
WPS May 2014
