Deadly Pollen by Stephen Oliver

ZIONISM:
to carry forward the cultural gene -
O bright-lit destiny of the chosen!
The child’s bouncing ball lands in mud
on the other side of the wire;
footsteps are paradoxical in a minefield.
His heart ticks fast as a metal detector,
slowly, the yellow ball rolls to a stop.
Proposition: to advance onto ancestral
territory, or return into gentle, familial lands,
a footfall journey backward. His eye
shrinks the land to desert.
*
You return to the stupa, yearly,
to seek your return. You wish to
come back as forest deer but
that deer is extinct. The stupa is a rock
upon which your dreams founder,
yearly, - you return that which
you do not have. Meanwhile, in the
West, under ragged skies and beneath a
hundred spires no longer dreamt of -
attendance comes tumbling down;
each stone, unturned, in an emptied
space within a space caved under.
*
The stones collected. Ground
levelled and swept. The first cubicle
erected with four windowed-walls,
an open doorway. One man
on a step looking out to sea. Civilization
open for business. Soon, marble
was made smooth and square. The Idea
locked into permanence. Curiosity
stimulated commerce; others came and
conquered then went away.
That first step never forgotten became
a throne - history’s seat.*

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