Sky Burial

I.

Entangled in a moment’s glance
That young man spent his youth.
Ice from the mountains in the summer brought
Where princes train their hawks
Upon the happenstance of game
And all is ice the year throughout;
O silken veils as dark as stars,
Eyelashes like the fan-bearers
That flattered Cleopatra’s self
Whose self was beauty and an asp;
Red lanterns in the trees
And sweet convincing mouths.
How could a man contend with these?
His wings were tied behind his back,
His hair was cut, his palms were burned,
And all his coin spent in a wishing-well.

II.

Tower of Silence where
Eagles gather,
And so the flesh becomes interred
In the ether.
O let the eagle beat his yellow head
Against the rock
Until his beak is shattered pottery.
And when its ivorie’s grown again,
Let pluck him out the talons overgrown
And thin the feathers clumped with age.
His youth shall be renewed,
That golden bird
Shall live another fourty years
And hunt where youth had played.