II

Garlic and sapphires in the mud
Clot the bedded axle-tree.
The thrilling wire in the blood
Sings below inveterate scars
Appeasing long forgotten wars.

We meet at our tree
On the highest hill
(But far below the citadels)
Empty on these first days of spring
Yet a token still

Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.

Set silent subtle: as a rhizome
Whatever your etymology of being
The derivations are deeply rooted
Exotic cognates strange semantics
Inviting others – me – to a new vocabulary.

Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.
Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,
Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.

Original insights incisive attack and my favorite:
Humility asserting power.
Recumbent grounded utterly calm

Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,
And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,
And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,
The surface glittered out of heart of light,
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.

The acclaim for you (or their claims on you)
Your flashmobs delight disgust disquiet
Triumphant touts the Times
Empty provocation proclaims the Post
Radical exhilarating an unmitigated disaster

So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern, 
Along the empty alley, into the box circle, 
To look down into the drained pool.

Asking where you are staying
What you are saying what it might mean
I share their enthusiasm but resent

And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.

Your return to the city was sudden
Entirely unexpected and not just by me
Seems everyone is tweeting texting talking

There they were, dignified, invisible,
Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,

Or a ticket to transcendence
Typically it begins in consternation
My expectation imposed on you
Yours on me quite innocently
When you ask why I hear who