the portraits over my bed whisper stories
about those gold-framed faces that came before
what they believed & how they dreamed
which god they prayed to
& why they never stopped to leave
your own portrait rested squarely on my nightstand
a long while, until it began to need dusting
(then i stuffed it into a long box of flat faces)
but do not read this act as unwanting
no, read it as remembering a Mahler symphony
golden beads swept across staves that heightened
or haunted my life, pressed me against bikestop walls
& the sunstruck summits all to loosely brush my chest,
simply to remind me that highs fall & ends grow
simply to remind me that resurrection is a one-sided face of eternity
there have been other symphonies, sure
but none as all-consuming, gorging brightly gilded oranges
& gently spitting out any seeds before starting another,
none other so delicately forceful at the flick of a baton
sharing the cries of grieving parents & laughter of crickets
this Mahler symphony has yarned together
an eternal Melody & crayon-crumbled ensembles,
that strike subtle chords of need & suffering
deceptively hidden behind the grandeur of a cadence,
the gold fragments of my life
haze gold, sent from the far south,
cast in art deco forms & jaded hues
lingering gently above a severance audience
whose eyes welled with tears
& settled on an impressive pipe facade
joke gold, laughing in the light
of yellow walls & velvet days
hound hunts with mighty supper following,
mornings consumed by fair linens
coffee & the impossible dream
spent gold, that spectral imprint in my pocket
always present in dark party corners
& grinning like the visor effect
straight through my eyes & into my soul
(i would spend it again, again)
remember, enduring that great golden morning,
Mary Magdalene, in her sweet innocence, exclaimed
"i have seen the Lord"
the woman knew the worth of that heavy gold
(even still no church bells would ring)
resurrection is not solely for the dead
walking among them helps, though,
as orchestral lullabies startle us back to life
& the god of all small glistening lights
yields me towards home