A Modern Psalm

Wait, and be still.
That which you chase may outrun you
For the figure is an image
Fixed in your mind
It's speed and direction
Determined by your own.

The tantalyzing inch
May come no closer.
Your vehement ardour
May pertify the fawn,
Bring the bitch to bark
An infantile prayer

For fatherly care,
Crying incest
—pro and con—
A Cosmo girl,
Smile fixed
In a glosssy 8 x 10.

The mind's the means
And stillness
By which she'll be delivered
Into your earthly arms.
Now's the time
Not for running

But stepping
Into stillness,
The figure fixed
Unafraid,
The mirror
Of your flawless resolve.

Then the running
Will be
Twin streams:
A river
Foaming
Under the banks of the laurel.


© Dan Goorevitch, 1998