Alchemisland

I suppose we all cast the Hercules role for ourselves

In our proposed most audacious, rose-lit fantasies of the past

First to last and last to first, life’s process: the removal of blessings

Tides changing and fits and starts and droughts and bursts

Hurts and blurted loves, haloed doves and rages like rockets

Comets hurtling, arriving like bodiless turtles sized for pockets

Blessings invested with value only at their divestment

I would give all of it to fall at your feet

On a dirty floor, and inhale your vestment hems

You whose very flaw is flawlessness, your will my law

At coil’s undoing we evince plain as a child’s lie the higher worth of things

The sculpting painterhand of the Almighty Life Demander lingers.