Mystic Rumblings (new poem)
by Tim Kavi
across the land of seasoned night
one seeks and proudly thinks
they are the chosen
only to emerge into the light
and find out they are still frozen
I'm not the only one to discover
that I'm in the long night of the Soul
there are no lighthouses up here
no fleeces or animal skins to cover
no atonement or burnings, to make whole
this is the way to not talk about it
to remain forever humble
so cut my tongue out
and make my longing heart not fit
the scenario that leads only to a stumble
is the way of the familiar
the Narrow Ridge
across the abyss
seeking a lover
when there is no real kiss
that is the time to have faith
in the waterless desert.
