Peter Russell

1921-2003 / Bristol

The Moment For Eamon Grennan

Turn air into a polygon
An element like snow
Small rain that has begun
Gently like flesh to grow
In the dark womb of night
Studded with points of light
Which the still lake throws back
To every angle of the Zodiac
Turn air into crystalline
Let it precipitate
Dust-flakes upon the dark
Like down that falls in fine
Powder multifoliate
Whose every leaf's a lark
Descending in a great
Cloud on the waiting shrine
Of glistering grasses bent with dew
Parabolas of emerald hue

Snowflake, descending bird
Dust-speck and sparkling raindrop
Star-points that ricochet
Off steel-blue ice and up
Up into breaking day
Each points a glistening word
Each word shall stay
Forming a rigid skeleton
The unseen wings put on
When thoughts grow full like flesh
Cradled in the flask-shaped womb
Whose chemistry is like the dawn
When out of darkness like the tomb
Each wondrous babe is born
As though the formless air of night
Grew wings like crystal spheres
And darkness blossomed into light
And wonder melted into tears.
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