Thursday, January 16, 2003

The Crucifixion Secret: another meditation from Pavel Chichikov

Sit still for a moment, let me tell you
The crucifixion secret --
A seed grows
The broad leafed tree,
Seeds of grass spread the yellow rye,
Seeds of frugal cypresses
Dark pickets of the borderlands
Make rows, frontiers --
Black-hearted seeds of flowers
Soon bend bowing to respect the sun,
Seeds that love the shade
Grow violet delicate

There is another seed
Fertile in the crevices
Crystalline and sharp
Fertile, virile, potent to infect
In breath and blow
The smallest pore of love
The nostril and the turbine of the ear
The back, the face, the head
The tumor spot of Man's unfeeling deed

It was for this that Christ became a tortured thing
Submitting to a cross of cruelty
Encysting death within Himself
And by His self-abandonment
Secreted walls around a viral madness

But still the seeds spread outward from the source
Crystals of the pleasures of the lost -
Slander, and the whip
The hill, the skull, the prophylactic cross

. . . . . . Pavel Chichikov
. . . . . . January 14, 2003
. . . . . .

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