Curtain Of The Eye

                                                                    I

Lifting,

             Drifting,

                            Inside

                                         An open window

                                                 In the moments just before waking,

                                                        The eye opens

A translucent curtain 

              Shifting through a dream

                            Swaying and playing

                                        In an enormous breeze,    

                                                Billowing into an oceanic  

                                                           Room of dreams    

                                                           In which city and ocean merge...

Lifting and letting in

        White exclamations of seagulls' cries,      

                 Wheeling circles

                      High above the aura of surf

                              As silver-blue streets, intuited, spread

                                     And white foam of tall office buildings 

                                            Rise and fall

                                                 In waves of breath,

                                            Streaming inside never-ending arrays

                                               Of crystalline tide break

                                  Exploding against the palisades of high-rises...

Thin, prismatic mists

      Scattering in ricochets of rainbows

           Spraying across distant streets below

                Rebounding in the eternally pounding tide

                    Of traffic that pleats them beneath ebbing waves

                        Of the curtain billowing in and out of the room.

And the pearlescent glimmers of the tide of its sheer cloth
                Enfold the image of the ocean and The City
Within an eye of wind,
                Coloring deep the senses within
As rays of light penetrate
                The glass of a single, golden-blue wave
Inside a window.

                                                               II
Curtain and walls                            
                 Lashing and spraying into an endlessly cycling room,
My head adrift on pillows of silver sea foam
          Wandering with the waves and dunes that roam the shore
Of a soaring ceiling and sandy, shifting floor...

Everything melting like footprints beneath the receding surf
                 As wrinkled sheets extend out to sea,
Together folding into the city streets
                 In every ungraspable direction...

All a dream's dispersions and a dream's recollection...
                  Effervescing sand in still sleeping eyes
Tingling with the intimacy of sea sighs,
                 The ocean and The City ceaselessly unrolling,

Enfolding me in a flickering dream of fragments of saphire blocks

                Enclosing seagulls wings of alleyways

Fleeting as a crest of vision hit by hard winds,

                Rousing a rippling eyelid carried to the shore

That spills closed once more,

                Swiftly restored to the sea and sky.

                   Particles of sand, particles of speech,

Flying exclamations of the city and shore,

A cast of spindrift

                  Inside a passing foggy stretch of beach

Struck by waves

                  That turn into sun-lit barrels of aquamarine sidewalks

Teeming in gold.

An aroma of salt, a savor of pungent sea wrack 

            On glistening sands 

                  As the sound of ebbing waves hiss 

Like the sound of tires in the streets below 

                 Unfurl in waves of green lights

                              In the liquescent moments before awakening.

                                                     III

There,

Near the edge of the body's returning

                 In the outlaying crests of sea crowns

And inflowing wave stacks of towering skyrises

                 Emanating from far out at sea,

Come rushing eyes upon countless bodies

                 Of driftwood tossed by sea arms

Upon the glassy, tawny span of radiant avenues

                 Where seagulls perch to survey the sea

                 From the eaves of cypress trees reaching skyward 

Upon sandy knolls.

Limbs of trees, limbs of wings, limbs of my body...
                   My eyes and eyes of birds
In circumfusions of luminous substance:
                   Intangible sweep of awakening,
Miracles blowing in the folds of the sea rose
                   Within the door of wind
                   As I rise and lift from my bed, renewed
In the eternity of voluminous waking.