Halo

there was under the bridge
halfway between 7th and Broad a
mural in three scenes that 
coated the air like a prism a 
concrete mosaic made of glass and stone 
that sat next to a skyscraper 
with no soul

	a portraiture of 
infinite variations
	a half-moon
a blue jean dream
	a wall to shut 
from your eyes
	—illumination—
a voice of love 
	in the time of God
	
i came upon its face at the center
an accidental visitor on the
Monday after my thirty-fifth birthday
walking backwards under a 
downed telephone line
the wind blew like a dirty leaf and 
there was no rain in sight
but the air shone so magnificently
	bright
i had to pinch myself awake 
as i inched closer to the
	face
of a man with a toothy smile and a 
pair of glasses, a cross between a hairy set of 
	binoculars 
and two turntables like billowing umbrellas
taking off the 
top of his nose

in an overlay of language and light
the face glistened and had a soul
	fire of oranges in water
the stone was air
	and the sky went cold
umbrellas like two giant 
	merry-go-rounds
suspending that smile in a 
magic mirror

now what follows is a memory and
i can’t be sure if it’s right 
but i imagined for a moment 
those monstrous eyes created the 
	city 
and the city created the 
	world 
big as a galaxy that squeezed into
the frames of those 
	umbrellas 
two whirling halos pointed skyward 
at the ribs of the night
my dreams were cast in those eyes
an inverted vision
a perpetual nightfall a little 
	luminosity 
he held in his hands
and each of us was walking 
	backwards 
at the center of a world inside out
prisms of red and green and blue
a brocade at the end of an ancient
	rainbow
the air was smoke and the music hung 
thick like a wave
and every thought was a 
	geometry 
a great connector of things
that danced over our heads like 
the patterns of the zodiacs

everybody’s got ears 
and everybody’s got answers
but none of them knows
how to let their souls do the talking
everything in the universe has a center
and one of the most important 
jobs you’ve got is to find yours
this mask was made for looking

and the next thing i knew those two
umbrellas like stained glass 
conductors of music and
	lightning 
spun themselves with the force of a 
giant turbine and lifted me 
	up up up 
and through that wall 
and the rhythm was a multitude
and the earth found its feet and 
	dancing 
the silence found me