We have to see despite the darkness
cast under the unimaginable wings
of the world serpent finally gone to feather.
And why not,
If the earth is cradled by a tortoise;
If the Sun revolves around us all;
If we are spiraling out
in recursive ellipticals into infinity—
Why not sleep awhile under those
incomprehensible, enormous wings;
Why not take a life
on our way to the temple;
Why not brew in our bellies
the breath of a thousand men to come,
fertile soil that we are?
Why not lay down by the fire,
swallowing & swallowed,
with the buckling iron and stone
of the holy cities finally taken by heat;
Why not move our mouths
against one another long after
the song has ended
or before it has begun?
By Asa Mathers