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The Power That Moves

by Sam Gold

The power that moves without impediment
All light, all density, thrush and cricket song,
That lifts the mind above the common space,
Stunned my heart by drunken grace.

The hour of hearing burst the ferrous wall.
The sleep called knowing woke and was dispelled.
No sorrow, no joy left the calf's illumined face
At spirit's wild embrace.

A chant of whispers thanking me I heard.
The fenced-in herd had summoned me afar.
Before my downcast lights could cease their whirl
The leader drew them back to her.

Around her neck the number thirty-three.
Behind her eyes a universe of pain.
Though darkest and sanguineous powers loomed
A sight foretold their doom.

A vision shone between the grass and sky.
A crowd of prisoners starved and shaved, near dead!
Weeping I knelt and begged what I might do.
"Don't eat us," she calmly said.

Though sober I'd slept, now drunk awake
I vowed �til death from all flesh to abstain,
And fled and wept long tears beside a stream.
In vain did thought deny the dream,

Or hierophany as some would say,
For so unsettled seemed the circling stone.
That very hour I cast all meat away.
That hour I touched eternity.

� 2012 by Sam Gold

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