Through the blossom-gate,
and quite before the acid leaf unfurls into its meaning—
we are subjected to the play of light
working on our necessity to speak out
into a flowering. It is not yet warm —
already the sun is playing at dragging up
and displaying those unwanted words
elucidatory and garish in their babblement
it is almost necessary to cut them at their source
that well-spring is a tree-wounded-gash,
the birds disagree in their illuminatory chatter
as they may—
casting their circumspections to the breeze.
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Through the blossom-gate is © Christine Murray first published in Southword Journal (Munster Literature Centre). Through the blossom-gate was published in my first collection of poetry, Cycles. (Lapwing Publications, Belfast) |
Poethead by Chris Murray 