Sestinas

Once upon a high summer dream
Go down to the garden gate
Where the windblown sign is of a wolf;
The path twines between trees
And vines
And past the hives for the bees.

The flower opens for the bee;
The hidden lands, likewise, in a dream;
The tangled lacework of the vine
Can stick tight or release the gate:
These are the signs given by the tree
Where in the twilight stalks the wolf.

Accompanying the song of the wolf
The thrumming rhythm of the bee
The endless breathing of the tree
From form to dream
And back again, the gate
Like the spirals of the vine.

Here is the madness of the vine,
The shape of the wolf,
The passage through the gate
And returning like a bee,
Drunk on honey and dream-
ing of the Queen of Trees.

The fruits of the tree
And the grapes of the vine
Are the sweetness of the dream,
And there, the wolf
Knowing what must be
Guards the passage and the gate.

Death and hell, the gate
Sheltered in the shade of the tree
Not that the bee
Fears either fruit or vine
Or the wolf
Shudders from the waking dream.

The gate in the tree,
The wolf in the bee,
The dream in the vine.