It is my express wish,
Being of some sound mind,
That dreams do not come true,
That they carry no real sign.
Sure there are nice ones,
But even they are cartoon,
Plastic and fluorescent, phosphorescent,
On the blue surface of Neptune.
Watch with me, study and objectify,
Stick like a fly to the Cartesian walls,
But in Poseidon's deep, duality is nullified,
Like lightning from illusion falls.
In Wrath and Sea on Neptune,
There is no ground, a mortal delusion,
Man-made certainties and slogans,
Principalities and philosophies of institution.
I once dreamt, in my earth of three,
Of a jingle, single bell
Against a bass abyss, infinite thunder:
A silver lost in alien hell.
Sublime terror, numinous tremens:
A fury of roar and glory consumed
The mortal figurine that rings
Unheard in tempest of Neptune:
We crawled along the basalt ladder,
Promontory into the wrathborn sea-sky.
Cast in the Tempest Light of the Ancient Days,
But it is cold April, juvescence and Spring Fire.
All here that pains us redeems us:
This is the roar and symphonic Wind.
This is terror, sublime and infinity
This is Water and Fire, and Other, Him.
Let us follow, the Magnus said, the Word:
We know the stars and their houses, the solar clime.
This Photological Canon is new, unexpected but awaited.
This Light descends from the Sky above the Sea of Time.
Let us follow then from the East, further East
Than any could imagine, the Orient of Earth,
The congery of Sheba, Thales, the Yellow Emperor,
Before the modern rounding and extinction of mirth.
We counted not by digits but on the canon of the real,
When each figure was a moment and a sign,
Where pie and oh and one and e
Were semiotics of the pass of Time.
We counted the mountains, the unmovable stone.
We counted the hardness of future contained.
We counted impossibilities and the unrealness of real.
We counted the irons of mansoul restrained.
We knew enough to know what is new by what is not.
We saw the Mountain, the business of the Law,
The Order, the Ground of Truth, the episteme
Of probability: definition by Cause.
Who shall ascend the Mountain in the heart of the Sea?
Who shall anneal the iron at the core of Neptune?
Who shall ascend the throne above the Stars?
If Law perceives the Mountain, will Love pray it to move?
He comes the Pacifier of aethereal Sea
He comes in beauty, the Spring of Day
He comes the Commander of Storied Mountain
He comes sui generis to lead us to pray.
Let us perceive the Word and hear the Star,
The Magnus said. Let us depart from this awful Sea.
On to Neruval, the place of age, scion of Day and Air.
On in bright shadow, in the Triune Lee.