On
a wall of the cave’s
dangerously narrow pit
That writhes through bedrock down
to depths
No human can reach are pictographs
cut deep
Into the limestone that resemble
no others
But is the creation of an imagination
tormented
As that abyss that plunges towards
earth’s core--
Or this is history, not the history
of our species,
But another that was here and left
long ago.
That we couldn’t decipher
even if we recognized it
As language: the strange science
of this pictograph
Defies our sense of existence because
we believe
Life must be one shape in only one
time and place
And each life is only one life. But
this was an existence
Whose touch was vision and whose
thoughts became things.
2. The Salamander Muses About What He Has Seen
No other predator tromps as
recklessly as they
do,
Neither raccoon nor skunk, porcupine
nor mouse
That all move with stealth, and they
think invisibility,
Though we salamanders sense every
change
In the air pressure of our caves
they hunt within.
So we wait until they pass,
safe under a stone
And they return outside to hunt
there and eat
Or be hunted, killed, and eaten
by killers
With sharper teeth and claws and
senses.
But these two-legged predators
tromp and stomp
So loud they must not be hunting
us; therefore
They must graze like other creatures
outside
That feed on grass and bushes.
So why wander
Into our home? None of us knows
why, not even
Our Council of Elders renowned
for their wisdom
Not only of life here in our cave
but knowledge
Of the strange lives of the creatures
outside.
Surely these are the most unknowable
of those
Who invade our home, for they
are completely
Beyond all salamander reason
and therefore
Must not be from this planet
and are aliens
From the moon or sun or from
those stars
That fall though the sky in flames – so
I say
Alien, they’re alien! Hide from
them, under
This stone or that stone, be
quick!
< Back to Top >
The real world isn’t red dirt
and white stone,
Is neither the world of green and
blue above
Nor the world of white gypsum down
deep
But is crystal, green crystal to
the earth’s core.
***
The crystals you walk beneath
Reflect 1,000 suns from your lamp.
After the first burst of gold light
Comes an echo of light white
From the moon’s reflection,
Not heat but cold, white fire.
***
This dark green crystal, round
and thick,
A bit flattened on top and bottom,
Is the Earth itself, not an image
of it
But a duplicate stored in this
cave.
Should
the Earth we live upon
One strange morning disappear.
It would expand until it replaces
The vanished Earth.
This
is why we cave: to touch
The Other Earth.
***
No clouds up there, nor stars
in nova,
But more like a benevolent
lifeform growing
Over everything that
was unadorned stone
Is this layer of white gypsum
in many forms
Like storm clouds scattered
across the ceiling
Speaking to us in the silent
language
Of rock and mineral, a record
of eons gone
Long ago before microorganisms
began to evolve
Until they eventually walked
from side to side,
Then forward and backward.
There’s
no reason
Why random colors and meaningless
shapes
Can’t be detailed
as precise drawings.
With no two anythings alike
The New Order
Is simple as this: the infinite
is here
Everywhere in every stone
and between them.
***
Square blocks of dark crystal
tumbling across
And as they tumble across
white crystals
Freezing in place, no
two surfaces aligned,
Mirrors and angles of
curving space
That fall away from us
and return behind us,
Past, future, and present
fused together.
***
When we enter certain
passages of this
cave
Whose walls, ceilings,
and floors are green
crystal
We stand inside the
larger crystal that
is this
cave
Just as this cave
is embedded in the
crystal
Of this planet and
this planet embedded
In the crystal of
this solar system
and this
galaxy
In the crystal of
this universe, one
crystal
among many
In the infinite crystal
of the infinite.
This
is how we cave everywhere at
once
Beyond form and
non-form, beyond
being and
non-being,
Deep within crystals
each inside the
other.
S.
Beleu
March 20, 2009
