In this wood of living globe
the pools breeze temptress
cleansing arteries of power.
See. King in sunlit heaven-
on rooftops beauty bathes
seventh daughter splashing
herself so tangibly cleansed
under emboldened skies,
as he holds kingly triumph
to trespass private stairs
and in making this love flesh
feels god-like, transcendant.
And he lost love
for all his sons and princes
as now he sweats to manage
mortal sphere for pleasure-
ordering husband away
in boundless obedience
to meet with death,
appointing widows he made
to lie with endless springs of need.
And prophets hissed forewarning-
a hallowed sea in ears-
for those that inherit and kill
no joy will ever be still.
And princes grew in fears
rebelling lie-struck names of peace-
find Avshalom flies with steed-
long hair rides vengeful wind,
from monsters the king created
caught now in tree of life, suspended
from childish locks and slain,
his heart-blood vanquished.
So the king knew love again.
and wore it with a grief-cloak so lame-
if he could but die for Avshalom-
as wind through darkest passage of blame
makes dreadful moan of guiltless shame.
