Quest Triste
Section 10
Just as Meckelle observed all creatures on his quest,
So they observed him, and as they followed his stormy path
They seeped into his thoughts calling him back
To that fair island, tugging him with Orpheus' temptation.
Yet they sharpened his soul to the here and now.
Another Orpheus mission, for through an arid waste
He must now wend his path - for forty days and nights
That he might know the total consequences of his being
From Man's beginning unto its end,
Full circle as the Sun, the Earth, the Moon.
He saw the relics of all graven gods.
Of wood and stone, of totem animals
More than human in their abstract grace;
And then profound suggestions in great voids,
Sheer clefts and chasms.
Scorpions and locusts, so close akin,
As cousin-symbols of Man's powers,
To maim, and spread small pools,
All clustered with tenacious wreaths of flowers,
Hanging for dear life beyond Man's grasp,
The sand and rocks left after his ravagings.
He struggled on , until he found a thorny bush aflame
Sighing as if to speak. On it Meckelle sustained his gaze,
No ashes did ensue from its fair and constant flickering,
Yet magically it did engender
The spectre of a mirror, matching his own,
His blossom, shell and plate in leather pouch,
Hanging so closely to him. He took them out, displayed them,
And from their fair reflections great outlandish forms appeared,
Akin to bird, to beast, to reptile, yet made of stone
Or iron, brass and bronze; and strange but god-like fabrics,
Earthen jewels.
They poured out flames, clouds, floods, great oozing rivers
Foaming, splitting, throwing up vast meadows,
Forests, orchards - then razing them
To make vile, ashen plains; building foul temples.
Agglomerates of every mite of matter known.
Then creatures like the birds, so fearsome,
Emitting burning darts, for which massed infants cried
As if for food and succour, only to be gratified
With empty sockets, scarred skin.
The sea-monsters that did the same,
More to each other: now Meckelle knew all!
The emptiness holds no more treasures
For mortal insight; now he must proceed.
His walking in a straight line has drawn him into a circle.
He counted up to forty and beyond:
Was he now stranded, quite beyond his quest?
Section 10
Just as Meckelle observed all creatures on his quest,
So they observed him, and as they followed his stormy path
They seeped into his thoughts calling him back
To that fair island, tugging him with Orpheus' temptation.
Yet they sharpened his soul to the here and now.
Another Orpheus mission, for through an arid waste
He must now wend his path - for forty days and nights
That he might know the total consequences of his being
From Man's beginning unto its end,
Full circle as the Sun, the Earth, the Moon.
He saw the relics of all graven gods.
Of wood and stone, of totem animals
More than human in their abstract grace;
And then profound suggestions in great voids,
Sheer clefts and chasms.
Scorpions and locusts, so close akin,
As cousin-symbols of Man's powers,
To maim, and spread small pools,
All clustered with tenacious wreaths of flowers,
Hanging for dear life beyond Man's grasp,
The sand and rocks left after his ravagings.
He struggled on , until he found a thorny bush aflame
Sighing as if to speak. On it Meckelle sustained his gaze,
No ashes did ensue from its fair and constant flickering,
Yet magically it did engender
The spectre of a mirror, matching his own,
His blossom, shell and plate in leather pouch,
Hanging so closely to him. He took them out, displayed them,
And from their fair reflections great outlandish forms appeared,
Akin to bird, to beast, to reptile, yet made of stone
Or iron, brass and bronze; and strange but god-like fabrics,
Earthen jewels.
They poured out flames, clouds, floods, great oozing rivers
Foaming, splitting, throwing up vast meadows,
Forests, orchards - then razing them
To make vile, ashen plains; building foul temples.
Agglomerates of every mite of matter known.
Then creatures like the birds, so fearsome,
Emitting burning darts, for which massed infants cried
As if for food and succour, only to be gratified
With empty sockets, scarred skin.
The sea-monsters that did the same,
More to each other: now Meckelle knew all!
The emptiness holds no more treasures
For mortal insight; now he must proceed.
His walking in a straight line has drawn him into a circle.
He counted up to forty and beyond:
Was he now stranded, quite beyond his quest?
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