John Ciardi's Poem: High Tension Lines Cutting Through the Landscape 🌄

There are diagrams on stilts all wired together <br />Over the hill and the wind and out of sight. <br />There is a scar in the trees where they walk away <br />Beyond me. There are signs of something <br />Nearly God (or at least most curious) <br />About them. I think those diagrams are not <br />At rest. <br /> I think they are a way of ciphering God: <br />He is the hugest socket and all his miracles <br />Are wired behind him scarring the hill and the wind <br />As the waterfall flies roaring to his city <br />On the open palms of the diagram. <br /> There is <br />Shining, I suppose, in that city at night <br />And measure for miracles, and wheels whirling <br />So quick-silver they seem to be going backwards. <br />And there's a miracle already. But I <br />Went naked through his wood of diagrams <br />On a day of the rain beside me to his city. <br /> <br />When I kissed that socket with my wet lip <br />My teeth fell out, my fingers sprouted chives, <br />And what a bald head chewed on my sick heart!<br /><br />John Ciardi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/high-tension-lines-across-a-landscape/