I
Your name is divinity—eternal graven image
Of some dark god forgotten by man,
Forsaking any question why your journey began
You spin on the invisible rim of gravity, a presage
Of the oblivion that will return to swallow intention.

                              II
Your name is serenity—chasing the invisible tail
Of your own silent footsteps going before
And following behind; mountains of ocean gore
Spill on earth's shore, staining the invisible trail
Of destruction left in your fearful rejection of stillness.

                              III
Your name is clarity—ever-shifting face
Of light tempered with darkness, an old broken
Mirror ever half-seen, half-unseen; the lesser token
Casts abroad its borrowed glow in place
Of greater light to strive against the stars.

                              IV
Your name is purity—clothed in the snowy white
Of sinews, scars, and skin already bled
By stony missiles thrust into your cratered bed,
Who naked every night is led in the sight
Of the great horned owl and the laughing jackal.

                              V
Your name is eternity—the orb orbits the orb
Orbits the Orb in praise of infinite space
And sings with wild impunity while dancing in place,
"Never dream of the arc that will absorb
Your own, no matter how red its fires shine."

                              VI
Your name is fertility—a cold, colorless waste
Of marble dust and the namesake of monthly blood
Dried and pounded into chalk, filth, and black mud;
Womb of graven goddesses without a taste
Of air or the gentle touch of seeds in spring.

                              VII
Your name is mystery—slender and coquettish darling
Of earth, whose flesh too fond of fondling eyes
Remains too cheap to sell without disguise,
That dwindling shade you clutch about the scarring
Of your frame betrays your bones to the sun's flame.

                              VIII
Your name is lunacy—the pale fleshy flavor
Of your lidless eyes is slave to hollow tongues
And thankless lips; pouring into withered lungs
Your purest white kisses, you waste the favor
Of each lunar dawn that weeps over your horizon.

                              IX
Your name is humanity—celestial oneness born
Of shattered terra, mangled and misshapen world
Perfect in form and symmetry: an infant curled
In the womb of space descends into the coming morn.
Of light and in light she sings and dreams that her name is—