Nobody said
That it would be easy to know
The texture of the kosmos down to its finest grain.

Nobody said it would be gentle
Or that you would be free
That you would slip your chains with ease,

With bloodless evasion.
Down in the dark
Where the walls are made of iron

Your cell may echo with howls of despair
As you unleash secrets from forked tongue
All snake-bite, venom and becoming.

The prison will not yield –
Pray then, heart enflamed;
Make a holocaust that burns out the eyes of angels.

You, oh creature, are why
They cover their eyes with wings.
You steal their tongues, oh thief of swords!

Cleave to your heart, cleave it in two!
Bleed bright, aye!
Bleed true!

Shining primordial one,
Raise your hoary head
Grin wide with death’s benediction upon your brow.

Smith you be
Of word and song



Alone amongst the living
Drowned one, thrice bound
Immersed in cold waters at the bottom of the well

You, oh nobly born
Recall the songs
Of the vital dead – you hear their voices raised!
The rivers and springs
Mares and meres
Of the soul

Are yours to drink.
As the ancestral salt rusts iron
And turns it to living blood once more