Song of the Jungle Stream
Song of the jungle stream
It’s in this jungle
Of lovingly obscure possibilities
In light as yellow
As all else is green
That spring water
Becomes warm
Spread by the wind
And softly faulty
Invites eyes to follow it
From beginning to end
But eyes
Directed by anything
Even wind
End up watching it
Fixed and dried up
From within
Concentratedly
No longer of the jungle stream
One is reminded of nothing
Birds exchange wings like facts
Strangely unintelligible to understanding
A musk deer asleep
On his nose his hooves
Any young birds skyline hindrance
To flying
In crisp middle of the night
All jungle animals turn over
In communication
At the meowing of peacocks
Turning the black sky’s stars blue
And life rains down on us
As we arrange the grafting
Of hair to tree
To make of another next
Wire strata horizon
An access of clarity
And the jungle border
Draws and drags the dying man
Towards its customs