i sing a journey

scarlet dancers

each one visits my heart, bringing roses.

.

i sing a journey and it is an open gate.  between za and re, between

cláirseach and lute, between bare soles and well-buttered brogues more gates

stand open.  scarlet are the dancers’ veils.  they wrap me in a shawl

of singing, dance my blood through my veins.  each one visits my heart

.

bringing roses. white-petalled stars are: roses thorned with splendour.

they nestle like chickens in straw.  sharp are their twitterings of light,

exploding golden among dark, cold pebbles that no-one can see, because

they are ourselves, oh, truly they are our millions of magical selves.

.

each star, the bride of time, is as long and thin and winding

as time itself.  who has braided these?  taliesin’s hands on a lyre loom?

i follow a braided rainbow way through attitudinising zodiacs

on the braiding hands of gods, and get at last my place among the stars.

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