Through Black Gates Rose Morning

Held no more back in hindering clouds of knowledge     

All was plain

Though the light had broken through it took the sting

Love was gentle

Of the un-shadowed tale, she had told it all in quietness

Even silence

That the inside limpet hear the wordless truth

Unveiled in mourning

The inner ear holds fast the truest part of truth

It holds no formings

So as not to be afraid of what was true she set the dove 

Among them

That though the light a new song born of inward sight

A howling sound to some

Was as sweet a breaking call of love as any heard

Who had ever dared to enter!

Laid open bare upon an inner sea

The knowing

Showers of rainlight sent in comfort of her torn brave

The two-edged truth

The swiftlight that only upsurging threads of light

Can carry

Appearing in love’s own appointed time

To tear down, build up, and plant again

All . . . new!

In strengths of given weakness shone the hard light

The treasure

Left no more to fumble through the darkness

The beacon

It had always been there, safe behind  

The curtain

But before we saw to reach out and touch it

The mystery

All see-throughish, as though nothing there

Clear sparkling glass the barrier wall we could not

 See through

We hung back afraid our teachers told another way

The stumbling block

Poppies of remembrance their only tale to keep alive

Yesterday’s child

Wrapped in old blankets through which only worms

Crawled through

(For only on our own bellies through our own dust

Did we the freed captives escape the stench of yesterday’s

Proud knowings

If, that is, we knew we were worms) 

The key of knowledge they had buried in their offerings

Beautiful words that cover lies       

They would not turn upon the pivot of the central thing

And turn about them selves

But left the seeing suffering to fend for their selves

Blind teachers all that went not onward through

Past their own crowning glories

Through to the disrobing fingerlings

Of the dawn

The non-departed clouds of an outer knowledge gathering

Made today’s sorrows

Yet the way flung open wide, made now the simple wise

Through the shedding

In an inner turning

Black the gates that opening of the fire

Reveal the rose of morning

And the new blood of dawn

And the next awakening