Movie Theatre For Those Wounds Of The Heart Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Fibrous tremulations amongst the cowslips;
Yellow and gold, hair of girls fanning summer banners
As the foreground for scavenging birds:
The lactant eye of lapis lazuli,
Tremorous hallucination of a daytime queen:
Out in the summer cove,
Hidden besides where the traffic rushes beckoning-
Naked, jubilant and impercievable-
The pronunciation of a wild sex on a feral tongue,
Ringed by boys and girls who know nothing of preschool,
Areolaed, wimpled- caesuras cerulean,
Banners of the naiads of water and sky:
Where are you,
But beside us: beautiful joy. We are blinded by our
Work as we toil for diamonds:
Blind men look into your house- escargot of a nubile affliction,
A movie theatre for those wounds of the heart-
The traffic doesn't remember you-
But the wildlife goes leaping around you at all corners:
A wildfire, a victorious flag strung and whipping upon
Naked elbows,
The opal vestibules- struck down in a garden of honey bees:
A statuary of nude museums, a winsome apiary:
There you are, I see you:
Pullulating cenotaph amidst the cowslips,
Wildflowers overflooded and bending at your napes
And your body the crenulations that continue down the stream.