The Ripening

Those green medallions are gone now, 
They were golden underneath the whole time. They were
Made of light. Green hides the yellow; the greenness of the world
Hides the light. In and around every rock and tree and squirrel
Is a melody of singing—
This one “tree,” this one “rock,” this one “squirrel.” Song.

Green hides the yellow, and the yellow hides nothing. 
It is what it is. The fire of life is green’s lover
Hidden then revealed. Yellow reaches out, aches;
You ache back and reach in… lovers. 
That ol’ devil-song of sulphur tempts you in; that ol’
Doctrine of the Father tempts you out.          Sing!