Journey Forward

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The End of the Gulf Stream

The sun shone hotter

The ice stopped forming

And the warm cold currents

Ended circulation

From the North Pole to the Tropics

The Gulf Stream ended

Bringing warmth to Cornwall.

The gardens froze

And the tender leaves

Decayed in their buds.

Even in Cornwall,

In the sheltered valleys

The frosts have killed

The tender plants.

(Put out your arm.

The currents of my body

Will keep you warm,

Will keep you from exposure).

Fragment

Spring is early, the daffodils

Ready for market

Brought up by the Gulf Stream

Before reaching the mainland.

Enormous sea causing mighty

Wrecks, the hull clean torn,

Survivors swimming to the island.

*

When you die an abstract entity

The universe a mess of wars

You were to be reborn a saint

From the whale mouth

Surging on the deep flood

Delivered by the sea to Aslan’s island.

The Library of the Conquest of America

We waited on the cusp,

I could barely see,

The steam was all around,

Your arms like Inca gold.

You asked me in that den

When I could barely see your face,

If I believed in angels

We walked beneath the orange trees

Leading to the Library

Of the Conquest of America;

We mounted thirty steps

Through coils of stone;

To marble rooms with gilded angels

Between the shelves of parchment maps,

The diaries of Jesuits

The chronicles of soldiers,

And hieroglyphic texts

The Spaniards left unburnt

And lost you there,

In the Library

Of the Conquest of America.

Corona

How should life

Hide such delicacy,

Finding the corona

In the interregnum

On the onset of life,

Finding the rim

Hidden in a wood

The hard land cut away,

The absolute line

My finger on the boundary

The wrinkled folds drawn back

The ridge receding

My burnt return

Not knowing

That I had touched the sun.