Aftersong
Somedays the music helps you
Die a little death.
Mortis harmonious, and the stars
Rain extravagances, forming beads
Of light at the house’s edge.
We attend our silences
Until they swell with a second coming.
God or bird, or simply the flesh
Of soundwaves themselves,
We travel the river straight
To the instrument’s center.
The long diminuendo
Cascades into nothing.
Birds ignite the morning trees.
Eclipse
You open your eyes and are no one.
This is the way both life and death occur.
In between, the construction happens:
The jobs and personalities,
The yellow stone you call a god.
But sometimes, you might remember.
The wind blows through you,
The flowers bloom and diminish,
Happiness and suffering
Wax and wane.
You smile nonchalantly
While the night strings
The street in omens.
You don’t need to read the cryptographs,
The images stars paint
On the peeling wall.
It’s ok to just be a witness.
The sea is nearby,
The wharves full of echoing bells.
A stranger passes.
A great, orbiting moth
Covers the moon.
Seth Jani currently resides in Seattle, WA and is the founder of Seven Circle Press . His own work has been published widely in such places as The Chiron Review, Pretty Owl Poetry, El Portal, The Hamilton Stone Review, Hawai`i Pacific Review, VAYAVYA, Gingerbread House, Gravel and Zetetic: A Record of Unusual Inquiry. More about him and his work can be found at sethjani.com.
califragile.org 