Tuesday, 20 August 2013

Old Man of the Mountain

He of the mountains, the old and powerful god,
who sat inside volcanoes and modeled the clouds,
he ground out pillars of fire, snakes, anything odd
and severed seas like someone rending shrouds.
El Shaddai, the voluptuous beast, with myrrh
and other incense in a sachet—a sixth name
to hide the secret seventh—made men defer
the moment of highest ecstasy in pain.
invisible, visible, and rendered into letters
no one could pronounce like fruit we cannot chew:
the limited voice of the endless name now scatters
into silence into the works of creation, the few
becoming fewer in invisibility.  Enough!

No shout is needed to complete such stuff.

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