Elijah Browning

I was among multitudes of children         Dancing at the foot of a mountain.         A breeze blew out of the east and swept them as leaves,         Driving some up the slopes. . . .         All was changed.         Here were flying lights, and mystic moons, and dream-music.         A cloud fell upon us.         When it lifted all was changed.         I was now amid multitudes who were wrangling.         Then a figure in shimmering gold, and one with a trumpet,         And one with a sceptre stood before me.         They mocked me and danced a rigadoon and vanished. . . .         All was changed again.         Out of a bower of poppies         A woman bared her breasts and lifted her open mouth to mine.         I kissed her.         The taste of her lips was like salt.         She left blood on my lips.         I fell exhausted.         I arose and ascended higher, but a mist as from an iceberg         Clouded my steps.         I was cold and in pain.         Then the sun streamed on me again,         And I saw the mists below me hiding all below them.         And I, bent over my staff, knew myself         Silhouetted against the snow.         And above me         Was the soundless air, pierced by a cone of ice,         Over which hung a solitary star!         A shudder of ecstasy, a shudder of fear         Ran through me.         But I could not return to the slopes -         Nay, I wished not to return.         For the spent waves of the symphony of freedom         Lapped the ethereal cliffs about me.         Therefore I climbed to the pinnacle.         I flung away my staff.         I touched that star         With my outstretched hand.         I vanished utterly.         For the mountain delivers to         Infinite Truth         Whosoever touches the star.