Obscure Regions of הנפש

i.

On the occasion of my 900th birthday, I found myself pondering the eyes, the stare, the gaze.

Half to heaven, the seasons have been long through the regions of the men I used to be.

Once, caught in a storm, I was carried up by the wind and deposited on the narrow ledge.  High, so high off ground, but stable, flat, I possessed all the time I needed.  In a flash I saw all major points of the soul.  It was a flash…I fancied I could stay forever there.  But I was prodded.  I jumped and sailed. Forty years, touched ground and began.

And the strangest creatures were around me, friends.  But I got bold and headed straight to the eyes.  And the vain, sarcastic howl blew, but could push me no more.

On the tip of my tongue was thanks.

I thought, “The one who’s cast aside on account of sickness and poverty: What fertile land is left to explore, which has been cast aside like me and seen as light-years away. The air must be heavy but good as gold.”

 

ii.

The crucial relationship is to those we hate and to those who make us sick.

All have the privilege to stare into the eyes of the beloved.

Love necessarily bears the seed of death.

Those who chose to stare into the eyes of their favorites, they turned from green to brown.

They were duped.

The crucial relationship is to those we hate and to those who make us sick.

Invite the krisis and push the ‘type to a frontier, for sure.

Purified eyes read the famous in the eyes of the obscure.

 

iv.

Imprint a ‘type…

In our universe, there is an unimaginable quantity of single points, and each one is governed.  So it is with the soul.  Her geography is vast and her timeline stretches ages countless.  But each point in her is governed.  Each point in her is tended.

What are the brutal fires of the forge? Each point makes the ‘type, even the dark ones are governed.  The thought, memory, and sense are woven, life is the sacramental universe of the Spirit.  Desire is unforgotten and born again.  Breath and appetite, and you have a tireless nomadic man, and he moves from hill to sea; He will be revealed.   This watchman doesn’t wait in vain.

All points, the voice, angelic majesty and clarion tambour.

2011 (written for the liner notes of Tartar Lamb II’s Polyimage of Known Exits)