Altar II

June 2, 2012

Wisdom can fade as smoke from an altar
Of stones and water there is no memory
Beyond simple words on sheets shredded
No faint hint, no whisper of hands falling
That, so, in moments gone, were clutched
White pressed, to each other

Wisdom twinkling, seething under its breath
To return, falling upwards, stumbling onward
Upon the stones as mists, clear, lingering
For one way is found not through but into
Something elusive as if a mirror in a pool
Rippling, solid words unscratched, unmarred
In travel, touch or love

Breath soft, of fog on moonlight and elusive
Tracks floating on sand, grain by grain
Turning back, and forth uncertainly, devilishly
Close to another sheen, a shard of mirror
Clouded at its edge, smoothed in the sand
Reflecting years, children under a sun
Eyes darkened by the closeness of a face
To earth on knees and hands, begging release
Or filling of a void left by the shattered altar.