The Heralding

What cruel hand! What unkind claws Dragged and pulled me here from there Then poured liquid lethe down my throat And wrenched away my lawful lot ...from where? ....from what foreign land? Memories scurry off like startled vermin Mere spectral nostalgies remain The image long gone, an imprint of ineffable voidness Lingers on, burning my eyes ...what glory? ...what nightmare vistas? What strange force, what nocturnal witchery Made me dream this way and then forget What somnivorous ghoul possessed me to sleepwalk Out of life in search for some starry god-flesh ...what taste on my tongue? The violator never was but a phantasm of hidden fears and desires Yet the victim's psyche lies in ruins and flooded with catatonic shame The beloved object of devotion never was but a crude man-made scarecrow Yet the sadhu's all-consuming bhakti does not waver The blade that cut the wound never was forged Yet the arms still aches and throbs O man! Do not speak to me of ghosts and devils! Was it not agreed that the host of angels Dancing of a pin's head would be banished Deep into the jungles of Mei Nong The thousand and one venerable teachings denounced As so many old wive's tales and cowardice The myriad mock heavens and cardboard hells Bombed and burned to the ground And every self-proclaimed guru shot on sight Truly, I am one of the living devils Ravenous, thirsty, loins bursting with old virtue We dress as men and step forth into the world