Volume 2. / 1.) The Counting-Fall

THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND:  Volume Two:  THE COUNTING-FALL

The counting-fall,

And through the crested loop

There your footsteps . . .

And your steady progress

To where I lodge:

The stuff of inner tremours

Making all the difference

Telling of this blind new magic

In a bold waiting delight

Forging deep within me

A new crystal fountain

Of liquid life welling up:

All words well clear of Sensennae’s

Deceiving waters, of course,

But in, newer, fluid words:

A ‘fall-which-matters;’

And a farther entering-in

With which to grasp

The pearl-shaped thing;

And find again, the silver thread

Which once, in another time,

Captivated the whole rest of me

And sincerely took for good...my entire life.

Yes, the counting-fall!

It is you who come stepping near

Clothed in dark garments

Ready to frighten me

But it is too late! I know!

You cannot fool me now!

Drawing near

You fill me full with ecstasy,

Round, golden, and terribly rare

Rare . . . rare . . . 

And no one hears your step but me . . .
I am deaf . . .
Dead to all but you