All This Singing
This bird floating downriver with only its head
Buoyed above the waters
Recalls Orpheus in the flow of his final singing,
The way even trees seemed to bend
Into a blooming reception,
Or how wild animals gathered from the fringes of the wood
And understood that this was music.
Sometimes I feel the need to forget the city
And I vanish into some small green refuge,
Or drink a friend’s concoction of powders and pills
Wanting even in delusion to catch a shining vocal
From some god in passing.
I find little comfort in our sterility or reason,
So much electricity is burning in the world,
The real kind, white and absolving,
Like that found in the pulse of oceans,
Or in the terror of a night alone, far off
Inside a mountain.
At times in the rare wavering before sleep
Even my own house dissolves, in its place
There is a cascade of submerged voices
Like that from this floating bird, and I am shocked
Into something wonderfully unnerving,
A bolero of flame and moonlight,
A nakedness before the fog.
About the author:
Seth Jani originates from rural Maine but currently resides in Seattle, WA. He is the founder of Seven CirclePress and his own work has appeared throughout the small press in places like The Foundling Review, The Hamilton Stone Review, East Coast Literary Review and Black Heart Magazine. Check him out here.