Shape and Substance

I seek the shining darkness
Basement path beneath believing
Way that knows but is not known.

Empty skull in arid vale,
I sing a voiceless song of longing,
Wordless sigh and windswept moan.

I seek the primordial Before—
‘Ere Light, or Day, or even Word—
Region where the Serpent roams,

Dragon mother of the deep;
Her face the maw of fertile chaos,
Her womb is dirt, her breast is bone.

I seek the land of birth and death
Whence come both birthing, dying
And thence return, their bidding done,

Chthonic realm where little gods
Come and go without a sound,
Ultima Thule, wanderer’s home.

I seek the dawn of the Second Day
Not the day of witnessed passion
Nor when they found the body gone,

But the last pregnant day of possible.
The uterus of a new creation
Cervix of eternal stone,

Deep inside the shining darkness—
It is Faith’s tomb, where Trust unborn,
Unknown and knowing, waits alone.