CAVE SOUL

Black page black

with words inked

from red and gold,

the black falling, black rising

embossing, growing

ripe like a tumour,

growling like the Tyger

that prowls the cave soul

Mythical beasts

circle in the mind

from his to mine

and back again

In the fundamental space

where the shadows wrestle

and angels run naked

through the breaking waves

I hear grinding stones

and clattering bones,

petals falling silently

crushed by the crowd

Inside the Tyger

is the grace of the lamb,

the ever-loving heart

tears from the black eyes

flow in and down the throat,

spat from the mouth

in theatrical cries

more real than real

father split open

to love the whole world

rain down on my dry bone dreams

and punish me with kisses

'til I rise from my knees

and struggle on

with the cross

to the top of the hill.