Through a Skylark
“Things more true and deep” ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
The skylark rises up, up, up as straight
As winds allow. Straight, straight, straight, straight his air
As well except that its bright curling spate
Is ever changing like all wordly care
Is being drawn towards blue to disappear.
The straightness and the swirling change to one
Sublimity of single-minded cheer.
Impossibly they cleave apart and stun
While cleaving both together perfectly.
The unity of beauty is a string,
Transparent yarn with pearls, a see-through lea
Encrusted also with the gemstones of the spring
Called notes, roulades, and trills, an entity
Combined to give high bliss identity.