"They do homage to him as he cometh forth from the horizon, and they set the fear of him in the gods and the shining beings who have come into existence with him.
Let He whose feet do not touch the earth
The eternal Bird of Paradise,
Bless us and keep us.
"Get thee back to the heights of heaven."
He does not withdraw;
He stays within us,
But he is not incorruptible.
"When shall I come to th' top of that same hill?"
"You do climb up it now. Look, how we labor."
He makes, he breaks.
If we move upward at all, it is by our own efforts.
The Logos is within ourselves.
"We stand last in line; look how we shine!"
Be wise as serpents.
...Satan casts out Satan,
Slowly, with excruciating effort.
The eternal idol, omniscient, cannot hear or speak.
..."Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life,
And thou no breath at all?
Thou'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never."
But he has,
And he will again...
Or she will.
Endnotes to this poem may be found here.
© 2010 by Mark Andrew Holmes.