Tag Archives: Seth Jani

Double-knotted into the thick weave of time, the long-legged bird sways near the terrestrial waters and watches as they pass, looking for the one long twinkle, the eternal glint. As the sun falls on the course of empires it continues … Continue reading →

All along, you were touching the other world as if it were only a painted veil separating rooms. The crickets would jump through the quiet fractals which the light spilled over the garden and their wings would blossom, their dark … Continue reading →

Alone with the night plants and the erratic script of wind, I watched the houses dim their massive bodies, their hearts turned low. Is it their dreams or those of the small inhabitants blooming inside the rooms? Like a fist … Continue reading →

It wasn’t much but he filled the cave with ice, left the stones padlocked in their bodies. Not even the moon could enter. Its light was comatose, subliminal against the dry, winter rock. He would not leave until everything he … Continue reading →

Death was a brutal fiction burning all day in the high grasses, and its smoke circled our bodies though even the birds knew it was a mean illusion, a cartography of dust. But still we counted the fruit that touched … Continue reading →

I pass the abandoned farmhouse and the nocturnes fill me up like homicidal urges. It is hard to be equitable in this bent-down palace of purple trees. It is lined by moonlight, by the fabulists who throw strange seeds over … Continue reading →

The milkweed fills my memory like some delicate thing I loved, like some unlasting summer ghosting the mind. I turn to face the wild light, the paradox of forms. If I come again, let the cycle be mysterious. Let it … Continue reading →

You come out of the forest into a clearing where the skulls are glazed by moonlight and the dead are reborn from the patterns of wind and dusk. Nothing you know now matters. Even the obsidian stones shine like strangers. … Continue reading →

I’ve swum in the blue fossilization of air not numbed or shuddering, but wholly at home, ecstatic even. Snowfall-covered ears listening to the wind and light, to the long soft bellows of the trees. It’s an echo now I love, … Continue reading →

That black stone is there again erratic, in the throat and heart, clogging the channels of music. I can’t speak. I carry momentous weights into the winter. A beautiful valley fills with snow. The red birds streak like bright emergencies. … Continue reading →

The sea is a patchwork kind of dream, Held together by wind and tugboats. On the barges the huge clouds Leave reflections, And the mammoth uncertain thoughts That sometimes find us In the long, turbulent darkness Walk out along the … Continue reading →

The white motives gyrating through the trees. Like an engine, the moon comes over. Its radiance howls and the winter Dry as sherry grows full In the succulent mouth. We behold our childhood lost In the kaleidoscope of mist and … Continue reading →

In the last of the desperation The eons fly And the cosmos reels. We come home through the snow On an evening just like this. Above us, the clear spider Of the moon drifts over glass. It may be the … Continue reading →

Across the city, the cathedral gathers snow In the emptiness of towers. The white juggernaut harnesses the bell To allot the wind its modest singing. A bicycle, speeding over ice, Turns a corner and disappears. In the world a red … Continue reading →

Struck by nothing While the porch gathers light On an evening in early winter, You think the branches Are a kind of navigation, A geography in moonlight. Across the dark, the drip of stars On Chicago streets Becomes alternately flame … Continue reading →