Idylls Of The Cave


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Long I've sat, dreaming forth gods.
I sit in the subtle void, and it sits in me --
These inner plummeting halls where I carve my gods.

My void be their shrine!
Genuflect in fever and transport.
Fresco forth arcadia:
These satyrs and nymphs,
Children neither of this world nor any other,
Painted icons of stillborn apotheosis.
Gods in mine image,
With hands to pull me upward.
To ascend I place myself beneath myself.

Cruel masters!
Bright bolts rain down on me,
Flaying for each sin.
These eyeless ones I've set on high,
Browbeating with hopes of ascent.

Hear me, Christ aflame,
As I fall into myself,
A droplet into this subtle void.
Hear me, Christ aflame,
As I fall into myself;
Afloat in the emptiness we speak.

How is it I carry the limitless within --
This emptiness, defined yet not?
The circumference is not the space,
But the space transcends its circle,
Radiant nihil, shadow of the lotus.
Reaching toward limitless:
To hunger in all directions, inward becomes outward.

I fall into myself, become the very question.
I am your reflection, though counter-wise you reflect yourself into flesh.
I fall into myself, become the very question.
In this darkest inner church I kiss the Living Ikon.

In you the transcendent delineates as a vector,
A wounded hand outstretched into my abyss.
Let me clothe myself in you.


from Hierurgy, released May 18, 2018


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