The Transcendental Function

Mystical poem written 1-13-26.

1.
I look into the light,
Not knowing if it will blind me,
I fill my pouches with herbs,
Not knowing if they will make poison

I stand against the straining sands,
An hourglass surrounds me,
A symbol once mine,
That I have not worn in decades

Mistress Of Past And Present,
My magicks reaching back,
To before war without end,
To heal the family of the gods

But will the price of victory,
Be my own human nature,
If I swallow the dreams of the past,
While living in the present?

2.
They are quick to forget me,
Now that I have become embarrassing,
They are quick to remember,
Only those stories that weep

But I remember laughter,
In a radio station hidden in an attic,
Playing angry punk music,
On an acoustic guitar

I remember working the feedings,
And playing union songs,
I remember Hippie Corner,
And Birch’s easy smile

And I remember the abandonment,
When my spine went bad,
Strained, fraying,
And becoming the texture of old twine

3.
I am terrified,
I am exhilarated,
I am waiting bound,
And hoodwinked

Ready to be born anew,
Ghosts and all,
Ready to quit the night,
And seek the day

An expectant whispering,
Comes from the crowd,
The curtain flickers with movement,
From the concealed players

Ready to tell a tale,
As old as time,
And as new,
As the coming Dawn