Bea - The Poetry Shelter

" Give me new Phoenix wings to fly at my Desire " John Keats
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Bea

Bea
Left Right
A W A Y
Before I could say:
Hey!
Bea!


She
Not unlike the Wind
Of a summer day
Of another day
Of a lost Day
And Way
To a summer
In a quickening place that suddenly caroms
Angles that leave
This earth for
A different geometry of mind
And wind
Into a Hyper-
Spring sort of thing
When WHAM!
About a spring day calm and cool like
A breeze soft through the trees
And
Plainly soaring on thought clouds
That seem
Too unreal for a mere dream
Or a phase of some obscure magic cycle
Again through again through again again


When what fell swoop
Down
And all around the
Myriads of whirlwinds seem
To reel for a dream
Or a stream of unconsciousness
A certain subtle uncertainty
A certain paradoxical whimsy too
Like a summer breeze to pin down
In words
Or rhymes though the timing
Of the cycles in a mind all too real
For reality and syntheses of cloud and steel
That softly, slowly go
And come
Crashing through the
Uncompleted
Ever growing
Every knowing
Ever going upward spiraling
Spiraling upward, skyward, tightening
Like a hyperspring of hypersteel
Then...
Kind of...
Pausing, pausing...


For a split-second
Pausing, pausing....
Eternity of everylastingness
Then (after pausing)
Finally!
Hurtling downward headlunge hurry to and through the earth
Only to fathom the cool green sea something
Of Bea
That is
Unknown
Unknowable and
After pausing,
Bea --
So much a part of me.
Bea.


© 1997 John C. Thomas
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