Wings

By Eric Greinke

The ocean cannot be contained,

but it can be heard inside a small shell.

Stars we named after ancient Gods

enter & depart in a dream.

They reverberate through

our collective neurons,

back beyond the big bang,

to an infinitesimal compact

of impacted selves,

their endings encoded in

expanding beams of energy.

We move toward the unknown

blind in every dimension

but our poor human senses.

It’s time to pack our weary trunks

for a much colder climate,

to share each other’s warmth

like stranded survivors of an avalanche.

Molecules material but mortal,

beam to black space as errant waves,

each atom alone but connected,

quarking indeterminate but immanent.

Sweet orgasmic magic of our imaginations

plays on all the pages & stages of our days.

We take a break for the sake of sanity,

as they speak to us, through us & for us.

Then we cast them into the frozen fire,

transformed again into invisible wings.

___

Eric Greinke has two new Presa Press books scheduled for 2016, Poets In Review (a collection of forty-six reviews written from 1972 to the present) and Zen Duende – Collaborative Poems with Glenna Luschei (which includes Lone Bones, published in this issue of Forge for the first time).  www.ericgreinke.com


Comments are closed.