The Fanfold Hawk (For Franz Wright)
Think that or imagine you are just just gliding
The hawk flies in clear skies mirroring fire floating higher
higher than any spire
unconcerned or aware of empty forgotten prayers
He's one with the air
His golden skull all full of null and void
except for the will of God
and not with crazed incessant sounds
the noisy echoes that pull us to what makes us ill
Why do we go after what drives us mad you know?
We push and elbow grabbing what makes us sad like every ego fad
Quiet the mind find your flow aligned or stay blind
Nothing comes of
Making the same blunder a thousand times that's just inane and lame
And how to go sane reading between the lines
when all the lines are your chains?
It isn't easy
You'll have to show some spine some spirit
Move from within Bust out of what confines