DESERT OF DREAMS
In the desert burning, there is a dream.
But no one can find it.
God hid it in leaves eons ago
when that rainforest wore rivers like necklaces
and His parents were calling His name.
So too at the center of my life
stares a beautiful wound I love
to wrap each night and
awaken by the ocean.
ALL LOVE IS IMMIGRANT
There is another other
in the other of every
Sweet Men (audio)
On the other side of the world, there is a language I have never heard
It is beautiful, and in this dying tongue, there are words for Love and God
that resemble Bread and Wing
Or another forest language in which Mother and Knife
equal Drawer and Sing
And Island Wood is somewhere Desert Milk
And Berry, elsewhere is a Door
And if you added up all these dying words, and the people who speak them
All their memories, histories, and lessons
All their gods, jokes, rituals, and recipes
If you learned and stirred them, over and again, until
each utterance became a star, a new footprint, the marrow of a poem—
Broadside from Red Dragonfly Press: "This excerpt from the title poem of Ed Bok Lee's Whorled (Coffee House Press, 2011), a poem aimed at a "speaker in a future age" as elegy for the extinct and endangered languages of our contemporary earth, was printed on the occasion of the author's visit to St. Olaf College January 18, 2012."
from Real Karaoke People: