PERVERSION

Digesting the Vita Merlini
and obsessed with the world between,
I sought and sought and sought in vain
and so finally sat and scrutinized an Oak
that for all it's rough and age-cracked bark
rapidly possessed my Soul.

Without appetite or thirst I sat
fixated, all-absorbed,
to discover that mystical place within
that worldly eyes can never reach,
for so deep it lies in solid wood
not even the woodlouse has found.

But before any shift in consciousness
toward seeing with Spiritual eye,
every crack, every wart so enraptured me;
each knot, it shone more beautiful
than countenance of a super hero
by idolatry embellished.

Struggle however I would
to penetrate that towering maze
of leaves chattering in Otherworldly tongue
and landscape of mottled and tawny bark,
still no flash of enlightenment
breached my primitive skull.

Instead a capricious sleep-starved brain
cleaved my stupefied senses apart,
saturating sight, hearing, taste, touch and smell.
Now transfixed by this wondrous art
I ride exhaustion's tidal wave
all day, all night.

And such perversion corrupts my vision:
I must watch the wanton wood nymphs emerge
and seduce this sacred Grove,
until not a chaste tree is left untouched
by flux of Nature's darker drives -
the Prophet's human side.