2016 04 12
Running outside cabin among tall pines,
Bryan hurls manuscript to careless wind
that scatters pages of his vision far
over ten thousand towns on signless roads
where they fall as snow on faces of people
who fold them into swans that float on lakes.
Three owls on twisted limb of ancient oak
watch him with gold eyes while he writes on leaves
that crumble from his hands and float on stream
which steals his story-voice so he stands mute,
and now you know why rivers babble tales
about every person who ever lived.
After he tries to play stringless guitar,
he paints faces of people on tree trunks
that wash away as tears in laughing rain,
so Bryan trudges back inside through door
that leads down endless hallway of cracked glass,
then stops and stares in Mirror of One Face.
"Whenever I look in mirror I see
everybody else who lives in this world
except my own face, so I write their tales
and they disappear, hidden in new book,
but instead of my own face clear at last
another face appears to mask my own."
Leaping out narrow window of high tower,
Bryan glides on raven wings over hills
where people build towns inside ring of walls,
then transforms himself into honey bee
who hovers humming tunes around bright flowers
but they giggle and twirl dresses in wind.
Katherine watches him fly among clouds,
as his wings paint rainbow after blue rain,
and ponders secret code of archetypes
he carves from oak into one puzzle piece
each day, and calls to him to answer why,
so he explains how she designs each scene.
Wearing white wedding gown, she parades slow
in cathedral of laughing demons, crowned
queen of hearths, responsible to maintain
eternal flame that Prometheus sparked,
then places ring of gold on his bowed head
to appoint him true guardian of her life.
"I am no mad poet gone on wild quest
for meaning of life in cruel wilderness,
nor eloquent philosopher who quotes
dead sages whose bodies carved in stone
stand mute and blind in huge temple of truth,
yet I am humble farmer who bakes bread."
Katherine and Bryan sit in tower room
at small round table, gold from beam of light,
to eat bread and drink milk while angry mob
surrounds ivory tower, clamoring for help
as black shadow devours their vibrant souls,
and dead leaves shroud their broken skeletons.
Three daughters born from heart of Katherine
transform into foxes who play in woods,
leaping among flowers where honey bees
explain secrets of chemistry and love,
then trucks pave asphalt parking lot on spot
where their strong tower fell centuries before.