Early on our life’s journey,
but for me
What seems near the end, I
stumbled. Among tangled trails
The descriptions of which
chills me frozen, adrift in briny sea
And thrashing in dark with
eyes closed
Against the crack of a
rocky, hostile shore. I felt like
Dante, gone beyond now, in
his peace, trialed
Tested, then fulfilled. Me, thick in tangle but with
A hope’s light for a trail
walked before, all the way
Down and up, so a smile,
beneath tears, masking a weather
Of fear: I kept a sharp eye
in search of my guide
Though heaviness slumbered
on my brow. I shook dew
From plastered hair. Over a branch I pressed my legs for the
other side
Where the shock seemed
thinner but bushes, like nets, with grips
Of grabbing bramble; while
beyond, through and above
Grey and rolling clouds,
with green shades, a break of gaps
Of warm light that made dry
the wet of me, shone. The Fear
That at night soaked me
through, burned now, away, rising
Off me like my shade
departing; called there, to the sphere
By mighty Powers. Behind and below me now, the raw
Menace shrank, cowering and
curling on itself to find
It’s own coiling gloom. Over this last branch I strove
To now rest myself in the
dapple light, for a moment
I pleasured; so then to
start again, along the mountain side
Stumbling in uneasiness
because of the rough slanting bent.
And suddenly – A Scorpion,
felt through frost
Curled, balled up, glowing
phosphorus, at the joint
Shoulder and head attach
sinewy muscle. Desert
Cold crowding its poison
pressing the warm
While I crouch, frightened,
at the scrape, like shrapnel
Against metal stars; dim,
blinking, and flickering with
Distant Thunder’s
rumble. I brushed her off to
Turn back on the trail once
again but black beetle bugs
Crunched and cracked, caking,
under tan boots, stopping time
For eight months, at dawn of
this last decade… I smiled
Now at Wayfarers, the site
of Young Lions, The Growth of the Soil
And the taste of chipped
teeth. But then, fear spun me blind
With sand in my eyes,
browning the air, all-atremble.
Then a dead foot, still
farther, on a living man as well, purple
With rot, the skin sloughing
with most terrible
Acid, buckling my sinuses
and clogging my head
In allergic despondencies; I
lost hope of the light.
Like someone sure of his
wisdom, instead
Of Despairs, but now stifled
by the odorous soup of rotting at
The foot of his farther, so
I felt in my rushing heart
As the stench turned me back
the way I had come. So I sat
When I reached the blocking
branch I had climbed to
Contemplate again the thorny
bush, now ripe with fruit, with root twisted
To trip the traveler. Then before me my hoped for guide stood!
I cried in confusion:
“Living now or dreadfully dead
From crowning heavens height
or bitter hells depths, help me, a lost traveler
On my trail of tears, with
no matter to the good or bad or instead
Of your intent.” He replies: “ I was once born
A man, lived a life but one
day, woke a bug, then died.
I lived and suffered my
safest days under my bed but
Before that, I too once
sought the castle like graters gone before.
I spoke
With The Word once, from a
phone in an inn, called for surveyor.
From a great distance I
heard over hum of lines as from a far space
The tinkling musical
mountains’ chimes of many children's’ laugh.
But you, why so glum at this
struggle between
Light and dark? You, walking in despair on my old paths…”
“Then are you Joseph
K.? The voice of letters that sung
The hymns of determined
effort against amused indifference?” I
Knew already the answer, so
said: “I struggle, wrung
With the questions you made
dance and cry and laugh. I too
Cower under tables and
cover, avoiding the milk and
Chocolate kicks of those who
would sneer at uncertainty. You
Are the despondent teacher,
my hoped for guide, who shows the enigmatic
Path. Who strives always for that unachievable
Wonder! Make this spinning chaos a precious metric
Logic and lead me to what,
post bug, now in the after, you’ve discovered.”
Said K. “For you to find
your way from this feral place
Follow me…” He offered this
gently, seeing my discomfort.
“The top you seek is the
bottom of something
Much bigger while the swirl
you fear is the Gnostismic
Ordering of something larger
and more sinister
Still. Look up, the shades, light as air, spinning
in the light
Of heavenly bliss, so many
there, with Dante and Beatrice at his
Side, his delicate jewel of
heaven, a castle in sky’s height.
Like a bubble! A painful opening indeed to be popped, to
drown
In soapy film that splits
the light and spangles, glorious
Brilliant color, that shifts
though, tricking eyes with sound
And Floating beauty. As luminous joy imprisons and binds
Above, with bars of light
that blind, so night, at under, leave senses
Void and unfulfilled to
wander. But now look below, those
tangled
Woods: I crawled and cried
amongst that dark in my bug
Years and died a sticky
death there as well. My eyes
Crowded with muck and my
insect throat choked with garbage sludge.
The roads have danger;
therefore I judge it best you make choices
To follow me and I will be
your guide
Away from here, down, up,
and through the eternal places.
Our journey will take us
below to the sorrow of angry
Souls night. This pit of fear, of Hell, and war that
makes men
Dream of a perfection of
joyful order more sublime than sparkle airy
Radiance afloat in the sun:
This dark, we shall first visit
Then to the plastic world
and scratch ticket tuckers
These dwellers carry
confidences that you and I may never get.
Ascending I’ll hold back,
watching, giving your journey to Dante for
The taste of candy lulls me
but for him only joy.
Those that dance in that
jewel, I must admit, I fear.
Their strength lies in their
dream and so makes it
Real. If you go up feet first and by accidents pop
the delicate
Orb, rest assured I’ll be
waiting below to catch your spirit.
Up there is God’s Kingdome,
His city, His seat of awe.
Happy is the soul he welcomes into that intoxicating Realm!”
I: “Voice of enigma, please
– by The God in that castle
In the circle in the sky – Take
me where you
Will – In the yellow
submarine, to below the thermal
Vents, to the first little
life, in the sea of chaos, and through.
Then he set out, and I
followed where he led, to survey the mysteries.