Rapture

Illustriously sewn into the dawn,
this dappled water-dream of tempered light
now sets itself invisible, heat-mined
from meadows, lifted atom by each atom.

Lucent-eyes of morning, littered tones
on ground-staves, alto aria buoyant
with blade flex, make the stars such passionate
devourers in their meditative dry.

Among this throng, the mirror-grass within
which I have lived (am living still somewhat)
I find myself, winged forth with heat and light,
so taken piece by lesser willing piece.

Now I am distanced from the verdant gleam
of early earth's deep force, until my life
no longer rests, until my once-transparent life
invisibly resides within indifferent atmospheres.