Rosa Vespidae

Hornet, at alert
Repose, shares
Silence on a
Rose --an echo
Of old stars.
If an echo
Hears an echo,
It is ours.

Interrogative

This, it does not
Qualify as prayer
But I look up past
Privet, rose, salsify,
Sailing billow under blue
And try to cast thought
Above the sky -beyond
Comprehension, beyond
Time- and I am
All attention.

The Goldbeater's Skin

Here in the antic cartoon
Of our souls, orchestral
Reels roll out ecstasies,
Repairs, encounters, cares,
Mirth, thought, love,
It is, it is us
Experiencing earth.
What came ahead,
Above and after
Forgets immensity --is
Lost or found in laughter.