The Opening of the Eye

The Opening of the Eye

It was his eye that made me understand,
Understand his intentions and devotions,
His followings and adherences,
Understand the fuel of his furnaces,
Bubbling from within his chest like magma,
Ready to spray his soul upon the hapless passersby.
It was in his eye that I saw his heart,
That I saw wrapped in that fluctuating ring of brown,
The tarnished, animated coil of rusty iron,
Once shiny like a pearl but now dull and absorbent..
That I saw the snails and dogs, for some reason,
Arguing with one another over pancakes,
And whether or not they'd get to drive the chariot.
It was about his eye that I saw the swarms,
The muddled masses of flies buzzing about,
Attempting to make sense of the fight or flight,
All the while driven toward the soft orange glow,
Of the flickering cushion of heat from the pit below.
It was by his eye that the shadow was cast,
The ominous semipresence flowing over the warm crust,
The hardened earth that became the corruption.
Spewing forth from the center like cold oil,
Languidly, knowing that its prey cannot escape.

And yet I stubbornly confronted the demon,
I bore the brunt of its firey breath and its windy torment,
Its verbal lashings and aura of searing malcontent,
I bore the banner of kings and queens,
Of philosophers and wizards arcane,
Of warriors and heroes alike,
And I bore my blade of champions,
My hilted lightning bolt of Zeus' ire and might,
My shining testament to fortified will and effort,
As it surged through my feeble hands not born,
To wield the power, the fury of gods and titans.
But I nonetheless did not heed the warnings,
Did not heed the onslaught of the modus operandi,
Of my foe and its terrible thirst for blood and damnation,
It's dull, blackened attributive talent and desire,
Hidden within its own bibulous edge of darkness.
No, it was not me.
Though I bore the brunt,
Though I bore the sight,
Though I bore the sword,
I bore no such ordainment;
Only the will of the innocent,
The stubborn resolve of the proud many.

And I fell from the top as a great flame encircled me,
Like a comet tail flashing, streaking across the sky,
It was my iron-gray eye that became tarnished,
And the pit that opened around the heart was mine,
As my banner flaked to dust and my blade crumbled,
The voices of my ancestors diminished,
The wisdom and knowledge of the ages subsided,
My vision became cloudy and my heart burned.
Yea, it was with a thunderous clap that I landed,
Erupting in both earth and water, steam and ash,
fire and flame, and yes, even concussion and wind.
There, in that deep, dark recess within the womb,
Of Gaia did I lay, dormant and my lights diminished,
Like the light of distant stars traveling afar,
And yet, that faded luminescence glittered like crystal,
Like the many eyes of Gaia seen in the rivers,
And streams of the world, in the reflections caught,
In the sparkles of dewdrops caught in a spider's web,
Just shadows of the true form as Plato might say.

But for all its marvel, this tiny, faltering light,
Could not be extinguished and was reborn.
It grew with intensity, with prideful determination,
That overtook painful memory,
The bones healed, the skin restitched itself,
The blood replenished and the will refortified,
And the parapets of my mind were rebuilt,
With the virtues of my people,
With the wisdom and knowledge forgot,
With the thunderous countenance of giants,
Titans who lived in the whispers of every myth,
And every proverbial promise, every twist,
Within the caverns of the collective consciousness,
Persevering throughout time and space,
Over lip and tongue, through spirit and mind.
It was then that I knew I'd found the source,
The rich vein of completion and of certitude,
To be mined alongside the blood and sweat of my brothers,
The neverending supply of armor that I had once sought,
That idea that had fueled me into thinking that demons,
Could corrupt the virtuous, the selfless.
Alas, my eyes were opened.


 Invino Veritas
10/30/12
EOF