The Volcanos of Point Lobos

they are myriad here
and distinctly

visible

stone by stone
in sand

particulately

materialized by fire
flying

flowing





congealed and
rolling

thousands of
millennia

by river channel to sea
laying here

at my feet





while the tide
out of cool mist

this morning

utters lyrically
distantly

in continuum
volcanic thunder

solemnity of sounds

the ancient most
syllables

registering temporarily
in the little bones

shaken by my eardrums

and other bones






here where soul belongs

as the horrors of the great world
shining day by day are shown

like these pebbles each
pilgrim of trembling flesh

something of the volcanos
within us holds





such resonances





so it rings true this morning
so it is unconcealed

as what lies in the hard
hearts of necessary delusions

of the human sort
are pealed away here

as primordial seabeds
lifted to the horizon


in terraces now
peal away





and new secrets
erupt


unfold





i have no place to go





but the pelican does





this one too





sea swells are arriving






red shirts rounding the far cliff
i observe now because

this is what i do


sidewise

like crabs do





molten within and
burning through





fog swept sky





dot of sun







9/11/2004