Turning The World

2. Turning the World
Starts in the Australian outback, comes around the world and back home; Sympathetic Vibration

Ripples widen in the pool that cradled every ancient soul,
Catch sunsparks, eucalyptus leaves, and sky;
The bark canoe slides forward as he leans back on his pole;
Beneath his breath his Father’s song will rise.

Two thousand years away,
A gondolier leans on his oar;
From turrets, steps, canals and stones
His Father’s Father’s song resounds.
All who pole and all who row
And sing their soul’s song as they go:
You can feel them turn the world around.

From towers all around the town
Long shadows as the sun goes down:
The vesper bells all hear each other ring.
The organ’s diapason honeying the choir’s eleison
To their Father, as the congregation sings.
The spirit moves to minarets,
Muezzins make the call to prayer:
The faithful bow in concert on the ground.
All who sing and all who ring and all who join in listening,
And all who play and all who pray
Will know they move as one, one day.
Hear them as they turn the world around.

You’re both in bed now, feigning sleep;
you’re newlywed, and new to fight;
You’d floated through all yesterday in bliss
Sharp words both ways cut both ways deep
You hope you’ll make it through the night;
Your Father never sang a song for this.
But listen for her breathing: match your drawings-in to hers.
If she sleeps, then so may you;
If not, her hand may yet find yours
Late enemies in unison
Anemones unfurl
Wave together...
Nearer ever...
Hear each other,
You can turn the world.