Messianic Time
Left to its own devices, resurrection runs its course.Of course, the dirt is warm with introduction. This far northand this farunseasonable coat of windrowed ice off of the paneinto the shape of what remains of geologic time:shavings of thaw scabbing the daffodils. Enough of April.Still, there was a time for actualization.The First Concerto reasserts its last chromatic trill.Our dreams relax into a storm-sewn scattering of miles,webbing the world out beyond the Garden Ring. Plant lilac for remembrance. Sing!This isn’t how that went. , it’s awfully late.And then the sound of summers gonereturning through the narrow gate.
