Shimer College - Acropolis Yearbook (Mount Carroll, IL)

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THE STARS ARE NO LONGER OUR ARBITERS We have no sightless prophets to prognosticate. The wheel still spins, but with this difference: That now choice stands at the center erect: Each man can spin the spokes of his own life. But the unuttered imprecation Has yet to find an echo: Like an unspoken voice it finds its form In something less palpable than words. The plague rages on, carrying carnage Over the land where man is infected already With the cryptic contagion of unknowing. The plague has grov. n more wily than when It scissored a man from the memories behind him Now the dissevered filament swings Flaccid, unknotted, between the fingers Of these children who seem almost disparate. Now the riddle rankles rings, The riddle of the singer sings, And each man until he answers Bears the blight of his own fate. So it was I dreamed I met her on the rock Of consciousness: her wings struck me Back from passing, her lips cockled the decree: Know not only the enigma's answer But the riddle's question- Without both locked in your experience You do not pass here free. Dreams are no more than memories luciferous: And if I dreamed this, my memory was sifted Between sleep until the dark shards were strained out I dreamed I left her, the succussation Of her mane edging the insensate grin. I dreamed I found a rounded dreaming place Where questions glowed mosaically quick And where the quickness caught a multitude of forms There in the splayed shadow was my answer. There were no oracles for me, No doubts poured out on fuming altars. The curse was there, unheard but hearing: Still there were no vapors for my voice: I wandered through my own inflicted wonder Until I found the dreaming place.

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