What is Real to Roundabout Reel - reverse mirror after Rubaiyat of a Robin
Wake! though the West still fitfully counts sheep,
the East's ablaze, there will wise rays rise steep
from far horizon, phasing stars away
phrased out by Robin Jay and sparrow's cheep.
A bird soft sings, one robin is enough,
to sway ten trillion stars as ball of fluff
art scored by millions more - cheep's cheek astounds,
rebounding echoes which their shyness slough.
Earth lends thereto both orbit, ear, at ease
tunes into echo surfing on the breeze,
Life's warmth wells from flat fields and rocky tors,
gold bees abound, they buzz as kittens sneeze.
Eternal silence sleep prevents, world waits
on spider spinning, dawn anticipates,
while we may ask what sense is made of sound
by church and steeple, aisle and green stile gates.
What feelings hound retains for hare he'd chase
and what the hunted for the hound? What pace
finds interest g[r]o[w] when it is mind compound?
What's real to roundabout when rests its case?
How feels the Tao for circling day and night?
what for the centre feels surround, dark, light?
what of the bounce when words once more rebound
describing robin breasting air in flight?
What feels for fractal any given point?
What feels the oil for King who rites anoint?
What feels for tree the Autumn leaf once browned?
Both throne and leaf soon tumble out of joint.
What reads the clearing into red deer's [t]race?
May star count light years till return to base?
How may red blood react to heart's flesh pound
when foreign smokescreen floats round beauty's face?
Stars seek love's meaning, spinning hot and cold
on Cause, Effect foretold as orbits fold
around their half-life cycles and around
on ‘always' as they fight the black hole's hold.
Bird song still seeks its Way upon Time's wave,
stars spin off Mankind's blind, ambitious crave, -
cross star-crossed dream, by mortal sadness bound,
crowned deathbound by a gaping open grave.
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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