XIII
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This article reprinted from John T. Unger's Art Heroes. The original article can be found online:
https://www.igotnozen.com/2005/12/xiii.html
© 2010, John T Unger
The Valley is where water meets & mingles, where it is drawn.
The source lies there as well, hidden, tangible below the soil.
Cauldron shaped by glaciers, brimming with willful Goddesses.
I came to know their ways as well as I'd known the sword.
Tending goats, turning & tilling & seeding the soil,
these are ways of the seasons, let nothing lay unused.
Grain grown fat & golden falls,
blown into fallow fields, the seeds sow themselves.
sibilant syllables speak of the snake. Kundalini.
Water knows the sound. I saw the Ourobouros in the swamps.
I slept at the hearth of poetry, courting Bridget with song.
I was slow to heal, quick to learn, soon to move along.
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