CLOUD GARDEN
(for my Father)
climbing
climbing
engines at
full power
let us
conduct some commerce
whilst the
machine transports us
elevates above
world as it is, world
of everyday life
**^*
if only one could…
but I can still berate myself
as to why I am not
flying back in time
hoping to recapture, re-experience,
that absolute love and awe
I felt as a child
that burning love
in truth I need
this to
re-ignite
****
now we
are circling, circling
soon to be
making our descent
seat belts, warning lights,
you are all familiar with the procedure
in truth, frequent flier,
it has become second nature
plane circling
butterfly fluttering
monsoon somewhere such
is the chaos aspect
****
my life
poorly written, at best
a first draft
stuck, as all scripts are,
in the second act
but you, Oh my fine engineer,
my beautiful artisan
what great handiwork for all to see
here in this fuselage
other brother and his
chips off the
same block, gorgeous grandchildren
thousands of feet up
I am beholden to all
who understand the magic
of engineering
physics of lift, expansion coefficients,
I get the gist
am so
very happy to
as we
reach the apex of our climb
cruise altitude
time to level out
****
yes landing
there should be
we will have to
have one
to save the sanctity
of three-act structure
but talking
engineering
(plane shadowing the
ground)
what in our
design
is so specifically fatal
why could mortality
not be
written out
of the script, painted
out of the picture?
the engines singing
a vibrant, yet throttled-back
descant to this tune
seems sometimes that
if the Universe
has its joke
we are
the punchline
my mind clawing back
reaching deep into childhood
battling to figure
when death
first became a theme
(rise into consciousness
of what it is
to
be human
to be
of necessity
philosophical being)
****
through the porthole
time and cloud
seem to
be in
a kind of hiatus
the Earth at a distance
yet perfectly clear
a moment, where wistfully,
I would give myself
to the stratosphere
and you
high above the ground too
in your weapon of war
but death
not needing to
search for you, death already
got you
in its sights, in sharp
crystal focus
man of the sky, creature
of the Sun
the time
you were given spent
nurturing, gardening,
day upon day
committed to
the beauty of green
****
let us
as I whispered at the outset
do some
commerce
try some trade
put our heads together to figure
(my mathematics man) why
perfect love
is not the solution to
any known problem or equation
balance is never
a thing found
in absolute terms
the give and
receive m, somehow
always
in disjunction
but the sad axiom of truth in
these matters
is that we
should always love more
turns missed
roads not taken
stories that
won’t sell
that no one wants to hear
thinking now
of what words to speak
that in their careful truth
will do
exemplary justice
capture an essence
be
distillation of
these tears
****
so high
we might fly
that we
stretch the veil of the world, way
beyond
pushing any envelope
so high
we might fly
that there can be
no parachute
so close to the ground now
to the Earth which must welcome you
garden
cloud
garden of clouds where
forever sleep