One Naked Word
What is the nature of
Perception's doors pried
I have no bartender's skill
but for one brief measured hour,
in hook-or-crook, intimate
touch with infinity.
This is saved for a time
that hasn't arrived...
so far, the coast is clear.
May my sullen nature
arouse your rapidity,
tease you with gleams
of hard-bought intensity.
I would be mad, but
the Moon has sufficiency
to fill its lunatic quotient
This soul that mocks itself
is watched from steps unseen.
Great luminaries of thought
are strangely in want, this evening.
I dine on a crust, but
find fulfillment in this:
life and thought must wane,
but bargain bravely to persist.
Tomorrow, hopeful and fair,
is the dream I dream with Summer sages.
I dream myself here, beside you, too,
if only to share, multum in parvo,
my comeliest trifles, and
Mother Chaos showers
her usual disdain,
yet again sadly smiles
as she lets me off easy.
These are the 'glorious tidings'
I cannot utter discreetly:
ambling so long on this
path of contrition,
dragging one naked word
from its birth-pangs, home,
through your kindly
Jay Mandeville's Other Poems
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