Archive
12/09/09 - (1)
Four Scarabs
I awaken to a jubilation of glory-born light rays Streaming across my eyes' translucent curtains And realize I'm in a paradise of kaleidoscopic visions, A mythical evocation of ancient divinations Exhorting me to enter the land of the living, again, After having slept a peaceful evening as a ka of the gods, Dreaming the ages, the eons, into being, As if eternity were calling me home, to the origins of my existence, The immediacy of its everlasting intimacy enfolding my spirit. Ah, that miraculous light, rising in the sky's eastern ramparts, Those gleaming scintillas of sunrise setting the horizon afire, Flames blazing through my stained-glass-scarab bedroom window, Their heat disintegrating the sheets mummying my body, Bathing it in reds, blues, greens, violets, ambers, Transmuting my nakedness into the shards of that sacred beetle. Then, gathering up who I was when I last lay down, Its essence coalescing with what has entered who I now am, I descend the labyrinth of this Queen Anne mansion, Ascending into a pristine place of nature worship, Guided by the hued paths of three more scarabs Illuminating my passage through the hallowed halls of this house, Until I reach the blossoming promise of today's possibilities, No matter how far from this regal awakening The destination of my waiting incarnation takes me.
12/09/09 - (1)
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