Sway

original acrylic and pastel on stretched canvas 
92 x 122 cm 

having been told once 
that moons collected
make bridges
that stars make stairs
and suns doors
they sought for the sky     

not as pastime nor industry
but by way of being 
and in earnest

they spread arms wide as wide
sweeping for spheres
salvaging the celestial
and the fallen
for after

having once heard
that moons make mettle
that stars satiate 
and from suns 
by and by 
sight stems 
they collated the sky 

not as curator nor contestant 
but by way of becoming        
and in patience 

for every glimmer holds the tic of want 
and each beam the toc of will 
each setting and rising, the hammer and tong
each shine, the spit
each dazzle, the sweat of sky applied 
and light learned 

after all the telling and the hearing
the collecting and collating 
the bridges and stairs and doors
turned entrances into places   
where stuffed pockets 
and stored silver 
and the tight and the right 
and the salvaged string 
held no sway

after all the being and becoming 
and spitting and sweating 
the bridges and stairs and doors 
turned want into a way
where the pulled apart 
were put together  
where the cloudy cleared
and levies lightened
and where the truth
of time’s sky school 
holds all sway 

Listen to me tell the story of Sway...

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