Elijah Browning

I WAS among multitudes of children

Dancing at the foot of a mountain.

A breeze blew out of the east and swept them as leaves,

Driving some up the slopes....

All was changed.

Here were flying lights, and mystic moons, and dream-music.

A cloud fell upon us.

When it lifted all was changed.

I was now amid multitudes who were wrangling.

Then a figure in shimmering gold, and one with a trumpet,

And one with a sceptre stood before me.

They mocked me and danced a rigadoon and vanished....

All was changed again.

Out of a bower of poppies

A woman bared her breasts and lifted her open mouth to mine.

I kissed her.

The taste of her lips was like salt.

She left blood on my lips.

I fell exhausted.

I arose and ascended higher, but a mist as from an iceberg

Clouded my steps.

I was cold and in pain.

Then the sun streamed on me again,

And I saw the mists below me hiding all below them.

And I, bent over my staff, knew myself

Silhouetted against the snow.

And above me

Was the soundless air, pierced by a cone of ice,

Over which hung a solitary star!

A shudder of ecstasy, a shudder of fear

Ran through me.

But I could not return to the slopes —

Nay, I wished not to return.

For the spent waves of the symphony of freedom

Lapped the ethereal cliffs about me.

Therefore I climbed to the pinnacle.

I flung away my staff.

I touched that star

With my outstretched hand.

I vanished utterly.

For the mountain delivers to

Infinite Truth

Whosoever touches the star.