Tuesday, October 20, 2009


For dragon’s teeth upon the altar
You are received
Into the great hall
Where the words of poets echo
And whisper from chamber to chamber,
Hang from the horn of a stag,
Ripple in the red pouring of wine…
They lie liquid upon the stone,
Gleam in the glance of a sword,
Hide in the curve of a gown,
And dance out into the green
Green dalliance of spring,
Stirring wild in the woods.
Let your words fall full golden
Into the body of the world,
Then tread Truthfully in the furrowed field
Until the song of the ruby in the marrow
Shall call even the stones from slumber.

--Barbara Smith Stoff

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