Offering

This journey is an untamed
Growth of blue neon rings
Touching the limbs of nowhere
Listen child of the dark
To this music hidden in my hands:
Every tower is a grace of astonished birds
Which resound in Attar’s living kingdom
Gold has arisen from the desert’s pan
A s a shock of morning water
On a face glaring in the sun
A face touched by the heat
And cooled by the hands
Of a nameless brother
Who holds out a cup of painted silver
This gift is taken
From a table in the darkness
Drink its spaceless draught
And be refreshed in the night
Where burning hands
Cannot reach you.