Tabukari
John C. Mannone © 2007
forbidden flower of the long day
a blossom with power to prolong life
- Elixir by Gary Braver
I woke up in my dream in pursuit of Ponce de León
but lost him in illusion of mist by the late setting moon
whose light glances the worn cobblestone.
Lattice of lines, with longitude laid, precisions the map
and the path to the cave.
My s hadow, hobbled to rhythm of bone
beating darkly the dank and the somber
alone. Looking deep, past the seeping
of rocks, I found in that place, an artesian
of grace, in the grotto. But there's a rift
in the floor.
In a prayer, I grasp the spires— stalactites honed
as horns on an altar, yet the walls fall, cave in
as an avalanche, the avalanche
of time, cascading down, as a mountain
of rivers, ice-washing my muscles, plunging in stone.
I am frozen in rubble of stone.
***
I woke up in my dream, a dream in a dream,
peering through sheerness of mist of the night.
Light sifting through fissures, speckles the black
like flecks of iridium showing sheen of the mirror—
a mirror of water is shown.
It's rippled from tremors, stirring my fantasy, as in
the pool of Siloam. I measured my steps,
edging the font to where the quivers had stopped,
and I stooped for the focus of damp greenish light.
I touched the image of me,
felt the velvet soft of memory. Fade
into another dream.
***
Another dream of illusions in reflection;
letters miraged on a quavering wall
wavering a riddle flickered in lime:
For those who seek, they shall not find
yet those who lose it, peace sublimed
I awoke to the scent of the tabukari
its blossoms growing with the black satin rose
by the steps, in the mockery of my legacy.
By the wax of the crescent; my hair silvers still
and brushes the stubble landscaping my face
yet I felt a little younger, my portrait cast
in sepia squandering the tints of black and white,
and the purple of air
now laced fresh with the hints of gardenia and hyacinth,
singing lyrics in lilac and lullabies of thyme.