What the Fountain Announces

Rest moot self, look and listen
To flying shapes and clouds bizarre
Distinguished or not, each holds a part
In hard-won harmony, successful ambition

Hour upon hour, how Time advances
Ignorant to individual pleas
Day after day, moment to moment
Along the ruined paths of history

The ancient air evokes the ring
That wraps wintery chill in summer’s charm
The circle bends on the curve of spring
Golden bark proceeds anointed autumn

In a willowed wood did once to sing
The nightingale, eternal mother
Perched aloft on a mighty branch
Love for the tree, eternal father

Roots across the leaves, bound to the tune
Now hangs the noose in supernal glory
The cord, rapt and incessant touch
The cross, heavy oak and hot maroon

The robes, nary a bow to the lady
So shall the rose in open bloom
Cease as the beating in my heart
Buried in May on the eve of June