The Serpent on the Path


“I am not dead,
I have only become inhuman…”
     – Robinson Jeffers

The wind is listless like a lover lost among conflicting hills;
Needle grass and wisps of galetta follow her into shadows.
After sun glazes against the umber dusts of an arroyo,
Where puddles of rocks and cascading pools of sand fall,
Thought reaches out into the great outdoors of being –
Knowing it will not reach its destination; yet, confidant
That the world will go on whether it does or not…
A serpent on the path ahead awakens me to the inhuman.
His eyes: cold, indifferent, alien remind me only of the impersonal
Beauty surrounding me that deigns destroy all I am or be;
And, yet, is this not a part of truth, a knowledge in the flesh
That knows more than we know: a slippage in the curtain, folding
Us into that which is the unraveling of all names and Being:
His amber skin’s fire-glint radiance swirls and twists under a blank sky.

– Steven Craig Hickman ©2015 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.

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