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GARDEN OF THE DIVINE IMAGINATION
Staggering rows of pomegranate treesDrunk from invasions of bees and windImpregnated worlds, each and every one.Fruit dangles on their branchesBlack and shadowy, each teeming withTen million embryonic planetsEvery one of them spinning, compressed,An assembly of ten million moreWaiting for that inevitable sliceWhen they’ll surge forth to alterSo many foreign soils with their seedInstigating fortuitous terrains…
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APOCALYPSO
She wore ninety nine veilsCovering every part of herThe drums began to pulseThe flutes began to flutterThe first veil droppedNinety eight more to goHypnotic hours and epochsWe’ve been lost in our lustIt’s not what we can seeThat draws our eyesBut what we can’tWhile one veil remainedWe could still each imagineOur own private paradiseJust beyond that…
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PARADISE
There is adistant land remotebeyond imagination righthere before meplacid and joyfulshrouded only bythe thinnest ofveils three moleculesacross but ittakes about athousand years topierce through eachone of them
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