Green Wind

By Paul Kloppenborg

This green wind of God kisses
Statue frost, cut with breaths of prayer.
Tears fail to thaw man's shape, grown
As memory moss is chiselled from stone.

Seeding light encrusts Adonis in doubt
Sorrow as lines, as traces of benediction
When this scudding life sharpens truth,
Marble is cracked under skin's redemption

Into blood, into hard seasons flawed time
Where cool crystals touch as tutelar points
Kneel in dew, shape this immediate air
Morning diffuses darkness, rubbing each layer

A stele copied sin. Yet this green wind
Touches chrysolite, chipping grains, his flesh
Prostrate, forgotten, alone--man's faith block
Topples as myth in the rubble of Eos