by Pavel Chichikov
For J.K.L.
Above the consecration I saw angels rising –
Incense yes,
But also curling vapors not of here,
Curved, recurved and hovering
Hosannah
Outside the chapel autumn frost reclining
On the altars of the forest
At the tables of the mounded moss
Help us, help us we are dying
Miserere
Wind, wind, a mortal wind of Earth
And the fungus glows within
Yellow are the gills, an amber sun
Migrates on the speckled head
Aspergite
A priest is placing consecration on the altar
While on the altar of the forest
Every life is mixing frost and fire
Holding up its own flesh to be blessed
Benedicite
Tall clouds curl and rise, curl and rise
Ascend – the moon is risen in the east
As if a silver wafer were displayed –
Then take us with you, grant us peace
Hosannah in the highest
(Click here to follow Pavel's ongoing epic poem “The Shoulder of the Sun.” You may also visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.)
