Six minutes 2

Six Minutes 2

six minutes on either side of midnight
sleepy black crows
awake
at the stirring wind
eyes reflecting
past
predicting
future
calling from the Merlin cave
fire
ice
mixing in great torment
time slowing
time racing
a great dance
begins
with multitudes
responding
to new life rhythms
trying to understand
with crystal clarity
confused
by crystal facets
shooting light off into the darkness
to disappear
never to be recaptured.

One fine day
Gawain
mounted his huge black steed
left Camelot
and defiled
a virgin god.

He laughed out loud
captured by robust energy
and rode still laughing
into the teeth of the freezing rain
breathing steam
to his encrusted beard.

But a jump
into a whirlpool
became his undoing
and he sits
at the bottom of the sea
and cries.