On Reading Campo Dei Fiori By Cm
You, Czeslaw,
like a brook of the earth,
welling up to the skies and more,
swelling up even to the sun and the stars
and all unknown, uncounted galaxies
and more, more than we can yet know
or ever will, till in timeless space
we dwell in a place where
our tears mingle with your own,
making of themselves and all
their visions and their dreams,
one endless, downpouring stream,
breaking through both time and space,
cleansing, clearing perhaps one small part
of one small heart of the human tendency
to be a living witness of evil, and not care.
2006 July 11
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