Waves, static, clouds,
Diamonds, butterflies,
Moths and slate might
All draw towards the
Flame but I haven’t
Seen it.
Everything, everything, everything
Takes such a long time
Especially
Us and furthermore
Especially
Us in projection.
The hastiest
Transformation left
Us limbless and
Lizard-like towards
That scaly Phoenix-fire of regeneration.
The lizard with
His new tail needs no
Recollection.
What I mean is that
A lost tail is
Always a lost tail.
This is why they made you out of stone.
Sometimes, in some
Saintly existence,
Memory is
Heavy despite its
Holes and shell-marks –
Inescapable
And not to be
Mocked, trivialized,
Begrudged or forcibly forgiven.
With ceilings wide
As the Buddha-mind
The burden lies
On you always, even to the ends
Of the earth.
I understand now.
God forgive this
Charred reptile because
Yorkminster – I don’t remember you
At all.
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