Love Poem: The Inner Voice of Mark Birros Ii (Excerpt)
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Written by: Roy Austin

The Inner Voice of Mark Birros Ii (Excerpt)

THE INNER VOICE OF MARK BIRROS  II



From world war two in the Atlantic
I hear the drowning cries of men,
climbing out as in spirit from waters
that lap the steps of the harbour wall ;
time erodes as the sea -
washing up these thoughts that linger
here and on many beaches,
thoughts that stick and have the stench
of  used oil around them,
the name on a memorial
does not reflect the horror ;
the surf rejects such cogitation ;
for a moment, ' try again ' 
the gulls seemed to say,
' let go ' said the movement of the ocean,
but I cannot, I simply cannot
for what transcends these waves
and breathes out the universe
is love, the love of a father....   ...   ...
 

The old clock ticks away the day
that haemorrhages the evening,
and like a night- nurse at the bed                                         
as growing lesions slowly spread,
the crescent moon would nothing say
to see the patient pass away ;
the stars call out but they are late -
what metaphysics spring from that
while in my soul eternity
is smiling like the Cheshire cat !...
A presence haunts me as that touch -
that hugs the heels in failing light,
with eyes  that peer through space and time
and follow me into the night....   ...


The pine wood has its secrets -
I am one of them now,
like the columns of an ancient temple,
straight and upright
where no priest intercedes -
I trust it with my life,
I am theirs and they are mine,
growing inside me, sturdily and strong,
transcending their roots with my secrets
to their archetypal heaven...   ...   ...


As if a change of consciousness was meant,
against the pull of ego, the body
inwardly swept up in spiral ascent,
spirited away from me
from all the world below,
from all that I would ever be
that anyone might know ;
raised  the cloaked arm
of my archetype
to draw the void across my eyes,
and I did rise to heights of bliss
to see  the world from this -
dancing in vortices, tiptoeing on pools 
as through a mesh, devoid of flesh ;
our world is an illusion -
a carousel to light,
as in the midst of heaven
we ghost on through the night...   ...