The Wing of Sleep
He waded all the way back up life’s stream
And came out the other side
Lost where others wander not yet born
He dreamt he was dreaming
Changing planets
Sleeping only to awake over and over
To the block of blood ticking in his head
Plunging in an ever deeper sleep
Awaking in depths of light unmeasured
Yet closer to that blaze
Plunged in the mortal deep of shadow
His bed a sumptuous cradle whose plumed head
Rocked him
Then froze into the lintel
Of a tomb
His dead eyes the wing of the enchanter sleep
Brushed to glittering life
Then rubbed out
Into so total a revulsion
Their lids
Squinched up like spleen-envenomed lips
He felt himself expand becoming the sky
Making fair weather and foul while dispensing rainbows
As the mills of space crushed
And flattened him like a shadow…
(to be continued)
*tr. David Rattray
s. d. stewart 