Praylude to Jacob’s Ladder

Praylude to Jacob’s Ladder

 

Jacob’s Ladder,
the World Tree,
the World Mountain,
the Axis Mundi,
live and wait
in the Garden of the Mind,
in the Heart of a Christ,
in androgyny,
in ecstasy.

These are difficult words to say,
as the chrysalis hangs empty
and I luxuriate in flesh.

In the quiet breath of Communion,
with eyes and ears and careful hands,
I scribe and de-scribe,
I make hyphenated maps.

This has been my Sacred Journey,
to w-rite while dying,
to climb the dusty rungs of Jacob’s Ladder,
to dine with Metatron and Sariel,
Holy Scribe
and Angel of Death.

 In its corpuscular r-A-y,
pronounced with a ‘J,’
in the d-J-ed,
in metaphor
and the edge of the Milky Way,
in the steps of mona-ST-ery Mind,
I cipher light
and sex
and Geometry
and archetype.

Jackals cry
preserving the God of Vegetation,
strange words,
chants are said,
quicker than cathedrals.

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