Midwest Metamorphoses: Rays
For this morning’s performance Ovid is on lights
shifting the big spots so they shine slanted
like metal slidingboards down through the leaves
so that each of us automobiling eastward toward summer’s end
becomes selected today’s star, becomes lit
with glass, aluminum, talent, and holiness.
As we pass through his diagonal bands of bright mist
as he swivels first one then another celestial beam
to find us to create each our own unique shadow
I know it is no accident that I am here
stage center to speak of my love for him.
Let him find me let him use me let him
illuminate the angle at which I intersect his world
where the trees part just in time where the rock
at the corner of a crossroad reflects chrome overflow
and each crystal ray filtering the risen dew
alternates what we see day in day out
with the miracle of his relentless eye:
on the heart’s proscenium begins
a soliloquy of blinding whips.