Ornithogonia

by Ambrose Castleman

at no one’s bench
the courtyard of
someone else’s name
faceless pass, impassive 
they don’t see it
under trees dappled light

curled talons of gold, 
encrusted with jewels
a blaze of sapphire

lingers
follows me home, 
certain as sun 
follows night 
at the blue dawn, 
just a thought.

peregrine falcon to devour 
the gentleness of its kind
pigeons and ducks,
little songbirds, precious

the vulture preying 
to its past life
at the interstate shoulder
smattering of blue feathers, 
flesh and hollow bones

no one can see it— 
like moon knows ocean
i know you, dark mirror 

stray from myself 
only to come back
pluck out the last of my feathers 
wait—grow back the right color,

and you 
are there with me:
the egg cracks—
great sea of feathers, 
iridescent waves,
by beak and talon

are there with me: 
on trees that burn 
neon green 
in the funeral shroud
of summer storms, 
wail my death knell

are there with me:
to die and die again, 
shows me night birds
with the moon on their backs

conference of birds there,
limitless in numbers
seek some great perfection
unknowable unmaking,
finds me past valleys terrible
synchronized fear struck down 
with brave drumming 
of hummingbird’s ceaseless—
triumphant beating heart

die now at the ledge, 
hands, to talons
the supreme 
terror of the sky 
descends upon us—
certainty of free fall
sings, sweet and terrible
in our first tongue 
asks us to become him