Excess

Who taught the hills excess?
Mornings briiming with fragments of galaxies,
Bright, white, and proud, awakening
In the hills craggy lap.
They climbed the tower of night
Shouting names of destiny
With the bat's running squeel,
Wiating for emerald sunrise
The hills embraced the young moon
In her dress of resurrected satin.

What is more natural than sorrow and joy:
Forgetting them.
The sparrows cover their little chicks ears
"That was just a dream"
They whisper, to make them ignore
The fact of mortality.

The rainbows did not give us our conscience,
That is the voice of the cross.
The tree of knowledge put right and wrong
On seperate branches, but the seven beauties know
They are the same trunk,
With sparkling roots spreading
Into the heart of night and day
Like a wave permeating sleeping stone into eternity.

Every prayer is a chimers:
As you hug the lion's warm fur
The cold snake bites you in the leg,
Injecting the poison of clowns.

Our hundreth intelligence
Does not allow us to admire,
Without wishing to become.
And what inspires us more
Than the unexplainable ancient wonders
Of the modern world: the realms of Nature?

So I will discard all the angels,
All but one, the one most treasured
By the Satyr's of wisdom,
She who turns a blind eye to all questions
And exceeds everything so gently.