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#2113 - Thursday, April 15, 2005 - Editor: Jerry Katz

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  • Jerry Katz
    #2113 - Thursday, April 15, 2005 - Editor: Jerry Katz Highlights Home Page and Archive: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm Letter to the Editors: Click Reply
    Message 1 of 1 , Apr 15, 2005
      #2113 - Thursday, April 15, 2005 - Editor: Jerry Katz

      Highlights Home Page and Archive: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm  

      Letter to the Editors: Click 'Reply' on your email program, compose your message, and 'Send'. All the editors will see your letter.
       
       

       
       

      Gabriel Rosenstock writes:

      In 1992 the poet F. X. Alarcón gave me an Aztec name, Xolotl and this is the title of one of the visionary poems in the collection...

       

      Reprinted from...

       

       

      Rogha Dánta

                                             Selected Poems

                                           

                                          Gabriel Rosenstock

                  Translated from the Irish by Paddy Bushe

       

      Xolotl

       

      I was born

      once again

      last night.

       

      This time

      in the shape of

      Xolotl –

      twin brother

      of the Morning Star.

       

      The other died

      a sudden death

      neither peaceful

      nor unpeaceful

      as an ending.

       

      It was sudden

      without sorrow

      or pain

      sadness

      or separation.

       

      In the blink of an eye

      we can

      change:

      in truth

      there is no way

      but this

      to our salvation.

       

       

      Xolotl

      who loves the deer

      the eagle

                  the snake

      is as one

      with their pain

      their triumph

                  their fate.

       

      A new name

      or duty

      another

      perspective.

       

      a task …

      to be seen

      in hiding.

       

      I will slip away from you

      snakesilently

      if you cannot see that.

       

      An eye

      hanging

      over one cheek.

       

                  There is

                  companionship

                  under stones

      in the desert

      the best of company

      without envy

      copulating

      endlessly

      without lust

      without desire.

       

      That lizard

      blinked

      an eye towards me

      incredible

      the energy generated

      and consumed

      in the wild

      each millisecond.

       

      I am Xolotl

      voice of the desert

      forged

      of the silver of Venus

      in verdant Ireland

      I am a cloud

      over Fódla

      the evening star

      that wakens Banba.

       

      Who now

      has been loved by me

      or who has been wronged?

      Come

      to the ceremony

      and to the sacrament

      of reparation.

       

      Love

      is rooted in me

      like a cactus

      now

      my blood

      is tequila.

       

      In this year

      of  Our Lord 1992

      I dedicate

      myself

      to the shade of Columbus.

       

      Come and

      drink of me

      and this

      time

      go

      astray

      let the caravels

      all go astray

      let them plough

      the Milky Way

      let Venus be circumnavigated

      let the sails be filled

      with cosmic

      winds

       

      weep then

      sailors

      in the doldrums

      and may every

      last tear fall

      over all

      the deserts

      of the Americas

      in a downpour

      of forgiveness.

       

      I am Xolotl

      I demand

      this pilgrimage

      for this universe

      world

      without end.

       

      In the Aztec calendar

      see

      how we

      approach

      the year

      two thousand

      and eleven

      the proclamation

      of the age of justice.

       

      Rejoice!

      the heart

      that was greedy

      a cuckoo

      let it rise

      as an eagle

      strong

      majestic

      watching

      ceaselessly

      without sleep

      because now is the time

      of watchfulness

      the time

      for mothering

      we must nurture

      the world

      the calf

      suckling

      its mother

      do our lips

      lie on one another

      so that we can

      suckle

      no longer?

       

      Pray then

      for tenderness

      and for tenderness

      lay your finger

      on your lips.

       

                              How liquid

                              the world is

                              at its centre

                              like

                              tequila

                              that keeps it

                              eternally

                              intoxicated

                              in its orbit

                              in its ancient dance.

       

      I am Xolotl

      to my extremities

      I learned

      to dance

      to walk

      on the ground

      as the deer

      treads

      with reverence.

       

      There is sanctuary

      everywhere

      and every part of us

      is sanctuary.

       

      Who would raise

      a hedge

      or who

      would destroy it?

       

      Love

      the smooth

      stone

      the pebble

      the monolith.

       

      Cherish

      rocks

      pyramids

      bell towers

       

      The stone

      in the fruit

      the acorn’s kernel

       

      water –

      streams

      a waterfall

      a lake

      great rivers

      the ocean

       

      cherish

      them

      with tears

      of joy

      renew

      them.

       

      Cherish

      the

      four corners.

       

      Cherish

      the north

      frost bound

      the south

      where the sun

      kisses

      the stones.

       

      Cherish

      the rising

      cherish the setting

      sun.

       

      I am Xolotl

      the evening star

      I see

      all

      of these

      clear as the dew.

       

      Let us stretch

      on

      dewy

      ground.

       

      Prostrate

      let us taste

      with our tongues

      that nectar

      that will revive

      the ancient

      tongues.

       

      Words, also,

      are stones

      to be cherished

      stones

      are words.

       

      The more complex

      the grammar

      the richer

      the truer

      the more layered

      the utterance.

       

      Let

      language

      come forth

      from caves

      from souterrains

      from temples

      from churches

      from mosques

      from synagogues

      from ruins

      come forth

      from graves

      let all tongues

      come

      down

                  up

      east

                  west

      north

                  south.

       

      Let us proclaim

      the congress

      of all language

                  the lore

      of birds

                  the poetry

      of the people

                  the songs

      of turtles

                  the slithery

      stories

      of eels.

       

      I am Xolotl

      at the beginning of our journey.

       

      All the native women –

      raped by the hombres dios

      m’uilleagán dubh ó –

      of the

      Nahua

                  Huastec

      Olmec

      Totonac

      Mixtec

      Zapatec

                  Otomi

      Huichol

                  Cora

      Zacatacan

                  Tarascan

      I convey them as a line of petals

      to the sweat-house – the temazcall.

       

      And I will lie

      in the ashes

      through the winter

      I will eat vermin.

       

      I give you

      burial instructions:

      bury your dead

      as embryos

      in the womb

      as a token

      that here is no end

      but the regeneration of the eternal

      the head

      towards the southwest

      for we will never

      be separated

      from the clay

      that mothered us.

       

       

       

       

      {An interlude in which Quetzalcoatl speaks through me}

       

      ‘I have come

      Over powerful

      Waves

      Through the mist

      Of the magicians

      As bird

      As water-snake

      From that island

      Of woods

                  Of grass

      Of shellfish

                  Of salmon

      Of horses

      Of wolves

      Of wild boar

                  Of heroes

      Of epic poems

                  Of mountains

      Of lakes

                  Of rivers

      Of hills

                  Of valleys

      Of chariots

                  Island of heather

      Island of furze

                  Island of wise men

      Island of gods

                  Island of bards

      Banba

      Fódla

      Éire.

       

      I was

      Led

      Astray –

      Me, Quetzalcoatl –

      And I drank the wine five times

      I drank the wine

      Laced with the poison of toadstools

      I called

      On my own

      Sister

      And she drank, too, five times

      And I lay with her –

      Lay with my own sister

      Whose thighs were stars

      Whose breasts

      Were moons

      Shining

      Through rain clouds

      And I had to

      For that heinous act

      Throw myself

      On a sacrificial fire

      And my heart

      Was consumed

      So that I burn

      Constantly

      For all of you

      As the Morning Star … ’

       

       

       

       

       

       

      Hey, traveller,

      listen:

                  Ahuicpa tic huica –

      that which

      you carry you do not

      carry at all:

      your heart!

      it does not shine

      through

      your features

      it is only

                  yollotl –

      a muscle

      that throbbing thing

      in your breast

      that’s all …

      nurture

      it

      to be

      a blossoming heart –

                  yoltéotl!

       

      Let your heart

      beat

      like the womb

      of the ocean

      at its deepest

      the brightest foam

      on its skin

      like the shimmer

      of stars

      that will light

      the long nights

      of the traveller:

                  ixtli in yollotl –

      every face a heart

      and every heart a face!

      delicate as a flower

      durable as jade.

       

      The flight of a butterfly

      on a summer day

      is music for strings.

       

      let this concerto

      that nobody hears

      but Quetzalcoatl

      be offered

      to Him

      to the Feathered Snake.

       

      The snail

      moves

      very slowly

      up

      to the top

      of the temple

      to view

      for itself

      the surrounding plain.

       

      Its slimy trail

      is a prayer

      heard

      by no living being

      but Quetzalcoatl.

       

      Let Him

      be offered

      the congregation of snails.

       

      Quetzalcoatl understands

      the singing

      of birds

      morning

      and evening

      and understands it is for Himself.

       

      Let Him

      be offered

      the congregation


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