Out to my hand
the limitless gold
is pouring and buzzing,
arriving through the early
August light
like a séance of bees.
Contrary to belief
we are haunted
by gem-like beings
dispensing the music
of blessings.
The only ghosts
are the good ghosts
of the wind and rivers,
the bright shadows
of the other world
more solid than ourselves.
I step off the painted ladder
and into the summer air.
The pollen builds around me
the shape of the faithful.
Seth Jani lives in Seattle, WA and is the founder of Seven CirclePress (www.sevencirclepress.com). Their work has appeared in The American Poetry Journal, Chiron Review, Ghost City Review, Rust+Moth and Pretty Owl Poetry, among others. Their full-length collection, Night Fable, was published by FutureCycle Press in 2018.Visit them at www.sethjani.com.
Latest posts by Seth Jani (see all)
- Honey Psalm - 8th August 2021