269. A Tiny Beautiful Thing

fickleness in flight
& flailing, it is a tiny
beautiful thing against
the broken panes
of our eyes, & reason
given exists to exert
and produce what we
would believe if belief
were close to believable.

courage at voyaging,
and furthering forth
through din & dun,
slight light, & sleet,
until coming out in sun,
orchestrated movement
of bend & bone &
bearing what weight
the body can take.

cloisonné thinkings
through mechanical eruditions
& coloured cooler than
the break of surf or
sand as grate and grainy,
going into detail far & wide
till motion finishes
making greyest light
of any finch’s sight

terminus & porcelain,
how the thing is only
the thing seen & shining
into glory, such small
brightness, but clean
& crawling into that
deft consciousness
that holds together what
would otherwise come apart.

cunning & patient into
the wait that pervades the quest
to make the audience take
the littlest thing of the littlest
think to make a connection
out of it & sew it back into
the fabric & thew of any
enwrapt or rapturous body
of a pair of eyes watching.

cautious, not caustic, & for
cause, against churning
vowel & turning consonant,
intrigue in such an intricate
manner that the creator
could not even erase the making
or make the making mean
what otherwise we would have
of it or require of its progeny.

versus, but in the sense of parry,
& taking refuge in the vestige
of a sense of self or seeming,
so that a blade of leaf of grass
might form & hold to cut, in
tiny serrations, across the prints
of flesh of finger or of thumb
to make the writing of these words
less than the breathing of them in.

arranged in such a shape as to
suggest that order gives in sense
as much as chaos takes from
meaning every drop of water dripped
from languid lips and moveless
mouth in place of words that would
make what sound the sound of
words would be if they would be,
if they were what we wanted be

turning in the slip of sliding back
to site we had begun from, to
the sense of giving flight, as
gift of granting passage & assuming
naught but what the gifted takes
as sun, or light of sun, or sunlight
against the fallen snow, or sun’s light
resting on the crystallizing snow
and making from the light more light.