Three poems from INCANTATIONS: POEMS by Darnell Arnoult

MORNING

Glory strides up the side of the road, rock strong.
Hear the trees grow enormous, explode with answers.

Its kind current disappears under browed mountains.
It laughs and lumbers over level earth, while ghosts

sigh and watch the quiet valley. Peacefully ferocious,
a spear of creek water cuts and shapes and invents

as it passes, a blade breaking earth and rock.
Glory talks in a hard language. Recognizes ruin.

A condition of everything. She points joy into the void.
Floating in the willow, a bird crows with its entire body.

Blind children fix on it and see.

THIS TOO IS CREATION

God’s uncanny procedure in His hysterical solitude
is to night-bomb the mysterious void. Miles

of system-like threads pull the weighty direction of time. A rock
of light splits and shatters. What electric

silence floats on the eye of that mysterious radio? Rushing
waters cross mountains in human’s crusty

sleep. Long-toothed mercy glows in the steel craters
of each face of nothing and something.

WORK

Moonlight freely wants its glory,
holy howling eyes singing 
heaven’s blues. Heaped-up songs
break thrones. Understand sound.
Hidden glory lightly consumes 
the double-dog coming. Ankles creek
weighted tears. All mouths touch
my own. An original voice masters its living
tongue. Its giving tongue. Its burning tongue.
Walk it home. Believe in the tree,
in the owl, in the light. Believe and move
from the crouching dark. Cross
grief and master fierce wanting. Walk
your own soul’s endless entrance.