Winged Ventricle

"Looopy Heart" painting by Rick Mobbs

**Yes, the painting has returned to this site yet again, but this time it has a poem by me, rather than Rick. Enjoy.---Glenn


Winged Ventricle

Pious pigeons gather gregariously
on rooftops, on wires, on parapets—
where no finches
or wild parakeets were allowed;
on alert,
watching for hawks and crows.
Squinting hard at them, one
marvels at their acooostics,
embracing the kaleidoscopic
lid light show,
as the city’s great buildings,
tall and dense,
standing shoulder to shoulder
like brick toadstools
in a giant’s meadow
become
infinite castle towers in
a real fairy tale,
where the Magi stands every midday
in the center of the chest
of the King’s garden,
dispensing wisdom,
performing slight-of-hand,
spilling his tiny version
of the Truth, sprinkling it
like spice on his piece
of the great puzzle;
and beside him, astride him,
the Jester jingling as he joyfully
handed out
those heart-shaped balloons
of many colors,
on dyed strings of varying lengths,
several of which had the Infant
we seek
dangling from them,
flying freely over the treetops,
unnoticed by everyone
except for that barefooted woman
on Broadway
pushing her bright red wheelbarrow
with her crippled Jack Russell
named Joseph
riding proudly in it,
barking the prayer
for the living
as they fearlessly
forged straight into their foray
of the ferns; both looking up
in time to witness the wonder
of that babe tangled
in three heart balloons,
red-white-and blue, rising slowly,
propelled by laughter, by giggles,
by one arm flapping,
sailing straight up
like an arrow from man’s bow,
up into God’s awaiting hands,
deep into the labyrinth of Love.

Glenn Buttkus August 2009