The Thousand Paths of Trance

[jisbell00]

The Thousand Paths of Trance


To see a god: some wish for this.
As water runs or fire consumes,
so, I will tell it like it is.
To feel the air in Heaven’s rooms,
you’ll have to die. But there’s no bliss
sweeter than grain – or April blooms –
or a first step – or a first kiss.


I slept and dreamt. And in my dream, I saw
such things as will console a man. The heart
releases us to daylight: in the field
beyond our home, the grasses are at play.
The fawn who hops behind the doe is gone –
the light touches the grain as in the cloud,
the sun’s at work lighting all things on Earth.

At the horizon, oak and sycamore
braid the warm breeze. From here, not every leaf
can be discerned, but all are dancing yet –
bound yet and helpless. They will find a day
when each will fall to freedom. At that shore,
they will be red and gold, as if a hand
had painted them – had made them infinite.


It’s been now twenty-five long years.
The doors into the sky have shut.
I am not here to shed salt tears:
things happen. Meanwhile, in my gut
is God. I’ve had my hopes and fears –
in fallow years, in years of glut.
My dues, I’ve paid up in arrears.
My dreams are losses I have cut.