Ailuros

I am the
Wild mechanics in the ways you move, she says,
Where only my voiceless sunlight resides,
The echoing wind in its rays.

Where have all the sidewalks
Gone when the crevice flower cries?

Oh Charlie Parker, we love you
Forever the Steppenwolf,
Suspended, like some ancient fly
In amber. Now only laughter
Where there was once only pain.
A ghost of a world passes
On around you, long after you
Shed those early autumn’s
Years, to laugh at last.

Even when Rimbaud was
Alone, we knew each other well,
Rilke too, suspended,
Together in solitary delight.
Never taking a step away from
Those who have always had nothing,
In us she lives,
Always far off and strange,
Estranged and homeless
In the lands where we were born.

But on that morning when we awoke
From the stillness of her
Deep hues and stars:
It was always only this, her silence,
Spotless in the blue
Reaching all that
Ever was.