Crawler

 I crawl high and misunderstood,
bolted from the cradle,
worm from wood,
star-of-my-stable,
sun-breasted spear.

This promised prism
unfears that
four-legged finger-eel creeping the bowl,
I trigger and dampen the churchbell's toll,
unfolding my tread on the dying floods,
my surge-lights
tangle the clapping clouds.

I crawl high and mistaken, faceward,
toward the foggy face lands,
my raging ghost snared in skin
humps about her hooded nets.

I crawl high and forsaken,
up the arm of my father's pride,
subsisting Eve's wail
I draw up the tides
and burn the bridge leaving,
my stony medallion cracks the sum,
spurts into her singing sea
floods the dreaming cavity,
surging,
I sling my song sunward
And hoof my sun
for the gathering sea.