the Dew Spun God Eye

                      Oh the dew spun God eye
            gazes upon the calamity of its creation,
                          falls back to sleep
            and declares that death is but a dream
                      where mankind dances
          through the murky waters of hopefulness
                      and as the stars explode
            and the cicada comes to understand
                      the beauty of its song,
                  a magician bows his head
            and weeps inside his mortal bones
                and his tears are immaculate
                    and his heart is an altar
                  where pain is sacrificed
      because the holy wound can only be opened
                            and cleansed
                      without the presence
              of an empire of dis-eased flies.
 
                    And while an angel
                embraces a broken child
      and the history of philosophical stones
                          is  caressed
          by the voices of the sensitive few,
    the hands of the many gods and goddesses
                      light an incense
            that only touches the senses
          of perhaps a solitary white dove
      who floats through the molecular mist
              where spirits race formless
                      across a pasture
                of pastelled deliverance.
   
            Oh sadness is the ultimate breath
                      of the Universe,
              the oceans cry upon shorelines
                    of lamenting sand,
              birds moan their global dirge
                  and we call it beauty
      as the trees slowly collapse beneath weapons
                      of jagged metal. 
              The sacred waters no longer
          reflect the perfection of the moon
            and the owl has been silenced,
    its wild eyes staring toward a broken cradle
          where metaphysical birth is cut away
                  from an umbilical cord
                            of shame.
   
                  Oh the dew spun God eye
          gazes upon the calamity of its creation
            and tries to once again bathe eternity
                      with a sorrowful

                            mercy.