4384. MOVED IN ON NOTHING

MOVED IN ON NOTHING

(at Wissahickon Creek, Kelpius' Cave, 5/11/13)

By the grace of an ending I stood on a hill

looking down, holding a few small rocks

in my hand, rocks from Wissahickon Creek,

where I'd visited the Cave of Kelpius. He'd

expected the end of his world, in 1694, and

had led his followers down here, with him,

to wait out the end. There was yet starlight

in the watery stones around, and he threw

his own philosopher's stone into the water

for all to witness. The waters blazed, yet the

end never came. I knelt down to touch some

grass. What it seemed I could feel was some

warm magic. 'I will not die,' he had stated,

'but just be translated into another existence.'

-

What is left is left -  the dour surroundings

holler back something on this damp and rainy

day. My arched back streams upward, as if in

some Blakean drawing, towards the heavenly

fires abounding. I can hear the voices echoing:

'streaming back to your fire, we are assembling

here.' I must make amends, and be of good cheer.