SONG

A poem for a minute
for the embracing smiling
light upon a planet
sown flower swelling
where there is no time being
waiting or double seeing
is the budding of bells
in the happy pulse.

And silver-glass for bodies
in bodies soft embracing
for the flower the word is 
the stream of mirrors kissing
there being no time being
waiting or double seeing
where the seconds curl
in garlands from their scroll.

Every word a mirror
a watershed shining 
jewel and giver and wearer
the difference of joining
being made no time being
waiting or double seeing
carry the poise of pearls
or crystal-pulsing hills.