image borrowed from bing.
from "Anatomy of the Night"
[3]
What is the nature of the night?
Might it be the boundless destruction
of existence in the origin of the universe?
Is it an infusion brewed of cosmic darkness,
initially articulated by those shamans who,
spanning the abyss of the Fall, reconnected,
if only in vision, humankind
with its animal matrix?
Is earth but a tear in mad Ophelia’s
mangled target eye as she crawls
the Milky Way searching eternally for
the right black hole in which
to deposit the God-crisis in her being?
O light, you are oasis!
Descending / ascending, a plumb line
through our minds, the axis mundi longings
to connect that antlered shaman buried
in ice with the morning stars
all singing hosanna together.
Is there a basic dream?
An animal dives deep into primal waters,
brings up earth…
I tumble into a hole,
turn my body into a womb;
while in this cave
I begin to daub its walls,
out of my body
I begin to make a world…
Clayton Eshleman
Posted over on Poems and Poetics
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