Dragon Fly Trails Sparrow Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Who's harbored
in the orange, crimson
patch? Who's sticking
out his head
to thunder with new light?

The fledgling sun
has dropped
on earth's floor
rolling off
to a splayed beach.

It has taken off
again to rise
with wings flying
beyond horizons
of taller mountains.

The singing sky
rises too, gale song
jumping from trees
to stitch itself

to higher ceilings
of buzzing air amid
seed-eaters' quiet hymns,

the gods spreading
them to plant
a new world spreading
clarinets on trees.

(ii)

O finches unwind
your whispers
for a sparrow's take-off

to follow a murmuration
of warblers, starlings
jumping higher

to weave new swimming
skies, floating birds
flowing to meet gods

placing cloudy specks
of gauze on cicatrices
that flew up from a geyser

to spray young men's
blood after buzzing soldiers
had fluted with muzzles.

(iii)

Below the trees
sands roll behind
tramping beach feet,

leaving quivering
cream parches
of sand to swell above
trails of stranded crabs

left by fishermen
hurrying back
to fill the weal

of their dead youth
sprayed across the land.

Sands on the beach
swell to pave
roads for winged glass,

the last dragon fly
piercing air
filled with life left
by the red flames
of departed youth,

their tall breath buzzing
through to a star
taking refuge in the wings
of a brighter day,

hands glued to hands
on a beach still bloated
with breeze brushes
and sprayed lip strokes.