Piper At the Gates of Dawn

Van Morrison Live On Stage: A Meditation

I.

And the

Cold harshness

Of time

(dissolves)

When we hear

Him sing

(live)

On stage

(angels)

Married to

Their wings

(sing)

Of God

(he wears)

A bonnet

Of blood

(crown)

Of clouds

(limits)

Without bounds

(sings)

Ripe roses

At dawn

(burying)

The negative moon

(in)

Perfect diamonds

Of memory

(burying)

The poison hungers

Of the mind

(in)

The gentle rebirth

Of echoes

(so)

He sang

(lithe)

As wind

(across)

Pedestrian skies

(pure)

Beautiful new

Disciplined mind

(hung)

On each

(and)

Every vowel

(until)

Words formed faces

(calling)

Out to

The stage

Where shadows

Knelt down

And wept:

II.

And the caverns

Of the sky

Opened up at

The mouth

(infinite)

Wounds foaming

(the)

Holy blood

Of music

(energy)

Hanging on slow

Motion intangibles

(hung)

My heart

(on)

Hard luck bones

(disciplined)

Well-formed smooth

(taste)

Of jazz

On the tongue

(stirring)

Breathless into

The saxophone howl

Of the

Raw hour

(blues)

Boiled coal black

(threw)

The dungeon back

(on)

Her heels

(prison)

Doors flung open

(revealed)

The actual skin

Of the sun

(quiet)

In catharsis

(shaped)

The eye

(of)

‘Every Man’:

III.

And the

Icicle echoes

(formed)

Parallel in motion

(multi)

Faceted in layers

(reversed)

The parity

Of these

Odd Americas

(hollow)

Mouthed sincere

(devoured)

The whole eye

Of the spirit

(wanting)

The bareness

Of bone

(drank)

Whole blood

(wanting)

Fresh meat

(ate)

The edges

Of my mind

In dreams –

IV.

And the bowls

of electric

Rivers flowed

(faces)

Through mirrors

(uniting)

God with

The chains

Of heaven

(expunging)

The demons

From the pages

Of the past

(revealed)

A blank page

(in)

An unwritten book

(voice)

Pickled pure

(snapped)

Like a cattle

Driver’s whip

(disheveled)

With passion

(rose)

Like the cross

(altars)

Without end

(told)

Us of roads

(possibilities)

Bold and endless

(tastes)

The sweet snows

Of new worlds

(songs)

And poems

(taught)

Me to learn

(and)

I learned

About you:

V.

“We learn

From these

Old musicians

(learn)

Where the

Real roads are

(taste)

The thirsty

Magic diamonds

Of their blood

In our eyes

When they cough -“

“I know

(with)

Sonny Terry

And Brownie gone –

Who’s left?

Morrison’s part

Of the

(old)

Guard now”

“That generation died

(and)

We lost ourselves”

(Van)

Morrison sang

To me

(live)

On stage

(heard)

The bells flow

And dance

And breathe

(bells)

Of deep

Crimson blood

(capturing)

The rusty gloom

Of God’s eyes

(in)

The crystal eyes

(of)

A song

by John Aiello