The Imperative
Wisps of fire bubble up,
a windless spectacle of reds
and greens, bursts of force;
faces emerging out of the darkness
(an imperative that holds me in terror:
idol and fetish, images commanding me
with their overpowering presence),
luring me out of my stupor, entranced
I follow the flow of lights
driven by an unknown task:
where secret things live
to manipulate or enslave;
yet, also share their wealth
as wanderers of that devastation
of ancient suns and silent novas;
and, then, one spark descends,
a mask both comic and full of sadness,
contorted and twisted by life's powers:
a refraction of all things distinct:
frog, eagle, sphinx, wolf, zebra, whale.
- S.C. Hickman (2012)