Dream of Chingachgook

Dream of Chingachgook, originally uploaded by Negentropic Object 23.

Quintessence

..A purging surge of energy; cooled, condensed, made material,
transmuted in stellar flame alembic and deep telluric oven,
bled molten through weeping fissures in a fragile crust,
to clot cold in harsh light, after dark eons of internment,
and be ground gently in erosion’s interminable hand, to dust.
These ancient liberated remnants, compete for permanence,
with bark-stripped branches, borne from distant alien shores,
and the bleached carapaces of chthonic creatures, long since lost.
Worn inexorably smaller by the sea’s wet mineral caress,
creeping ever closer to the entropic threshold of existence,
each relinquishes inevitably to disintegration and dissolution.

...

Such vestiges of earth and life, squeeze between curious toes,
clamouring for sensory attention against the vital lapping wash,
whose effervescent rings of cool sensation, travel cutaneous,
singing the transition of a dynamic membrane, so delicately tense.
The coruscating surface surrounds now; an infinite fluid necklace,
tessellating patterns reconfigure constantly into new chaotic orders.
Esoteric dialogues materialise between flesh and inquisitive ocean,
vigourous exchanges of complex and mysterious informations,
reviving primordial nostalgias, forgotten familiarities recalled.
Similarly, wise lungs draw deep on their invisible, tenuous fuel,
before the final enveloping immersion into amniotic sublimity.

...

Loss of physical resistance, the apparent disobeyance of gravity,
infinite intangible hands reaching to cradle this rarefied body,
decorated by the taught shifting lenses of frustrated atmospheres;
each poised to dance ecstatically from liquid solitude towards unity.
An awareness of the dark; the deep; the void, of abyssal predators,
imagined leviathans, lurking impatient at the limen of knowledge.
Primal anxiety passes, banished by rich physical communions;
molecules muse cognitive, engaged in inscrutable occult quiverings,
each harmonic tangle, strung enfilade, on subtle quantum threads.
I am as soluble as salt, all boundaries dissolving in passive rapture,
but lung’s know: Return, towards the light, and the memory of self...