Two Parts of Thought

There in the curving trail of the locked ellipse

I was, full of wonder placed sitting on the ground

Putting out one hand to lean on as I turned around

Glimpsed, fluttering, a tiny bird passed by 

In its flight I saw:

First seen, the upward part of thought: a bird

Then a whirring of wings as simple things go exploring 

Caught, waiting, held in high-flowing expressways  

For fast tracking thoughts

The singing of things, which are in Another Place

The unravelling centers where all my flying things go 

Prickled, stinging, a tiny thorn beneath my hand

In its gifted pain I knew:

Second seen, the inward part of thought: a thorn

Then a pulling of weeds as hard things go deeper

Sad, breaking, yet glad in low-moving sightings

For slow piercing thoughts

The crying of things, which are deep within me

The layered harvests where all my lying things hide

There in the curving trail of the locked ellipse

I was, full of questions placed far above

Putting out one wing to realign on as I turned around

                                          *

It was in being sad, at their first sighting that I was freed

For then came the knowledge that my thorn-weeds 

Had their own place

Where they could change in being transplanted

And there, not frowned on were called flowers:

Trails of briar and columbine, tangles of muddled thought

Mainly selfish, but in their transplanting – transforming

And from there the inward part of treasure: 

The all-answering love-gold