Having been brought to confrontation with the Beast and Salesman in the City, the statue of Earth in which the poet buried God is attacked, whereat it explodes its divine contents out into the world…
Bloom Bloom B l o o m Erupting round and massive OUT IT COMES A spinning Flower flaring spiral arms kaleidoscopic! Bars of colored light (cocooned in Idol) butterflying free! out up above us e v e r y w h e r e all heard and visible drowned deep in l i g h t—as we, like gapers on auroral skies, stand awed beneath the crimson blossoming of this: the waking detonation of a vast K A L E I D O S C O P I C E Y E With spiral arms it heaves its Flower forth, and dyes the world— purple to red cerulean dark plum!— (thread-lightning strips of lavender-in-jade transfiguring [as complex symmetries geometrize {in perfect patterned forms and fractal shapes} the iris’ colors] —round…)
a seething vortex like a sudden moon, revolving… All this from the Idol’s clay, born out into the air An Eye a Wheel an Orb; Prismatic high-spectacular! A sculpted Idol’s offspring resurrection L O R D And the Great Wheels spin. And as they spin, they grow… Their sound is alien. Their sound is… m u s i c —symphonic-overwhelming! groaned like double-basses in a tiger-roar, and cello-sonorous: dark rich low tones bowed deep and vibratory, guttural as sand, and honey-sweet as choruses, as symphony—as on the Spirals churn their huge, galactic revolutions, sawed into the air… My God! He rises! Blooms. Unfolds. Unfurls in fire. In flame. In wreathes of burning circles like a helix dance— and
Every movement, sprig and fleck of pigment, every flourishing of hue and shape: imperative all-necessary as the great Gear, Being-Becoming, grows, styles, stigmas, pistils, petals, stamens, anthers into the air into epiphany! and turns the very atmosphere a n E y e There deep inside the pupil radiates its patterned radials—mandala-like— from core to edge from dot to iris,
and bears new leaf! New shapes New colored light an endless seeding spawns mitotically as the vast arcs turn… turrrnnnnn… saw merciless slow pinwheel-revelations, glorious: huge Splendor of the Eye. And every hue plays instrument! each fractal fanning-shape a noise in Harmony (kaleidoscopic) spinning in singing music of the spheres with each rotation And the Iris: round… Each blue-now-black and coral-white: a voice in choral sound so sonorous it c r i e s And blended low melisma of the light euphonious within the Star. So each bright petal in parastichy and spiral sing in the liquid symphony of light their hymns to/in/as Harmony as all their haunting swells, drums…drums…drums…drums, and lines like melodies in slivering color flare a burning song across the sky! Its sense (though not its sound) the sense it signifies (in meaning, not in word) is Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah as dark terrible ripples from the iris-Eye groan cello-thunder-choiring outward, out… groan deep, electric music optically— to All from I: pulsed spiral-blossoming and Flower-like from pupil, stamen, Core: Conductor to His orchestra, and sound (kaleidoscopic) ringing through design… There in the holy C E N T E R pulses… what? I cannot say. A knotted paradox unfolding plausibility like rain… …Infinities of sowing-seed that grow and then decay… The Source of everything. Unknowable. Unnamed. In all Its sea of colors, arcs and shapes It intimates: deep nucleus in the electron's rings and point gazed downward through the DNA or center of a cell (which holds it in) gold axle of a wheel and baby’s head beneath the navel in her mother’s womb… the center tree-ring in the years of wood and planet’s inner core through mantle, skin, the star that spools its solar system’s sling and hidden black hole in its galaxy… Of all these pivots, hearts and centers, This plays Paradigm and thrones the utmost Core: rippling and rolling too hypnotically for words, as all its colors drown the world… But now —I’m taken! —Risen upward! —Up— Drawn floating upward to the I n n e r m o s t and swimming in the gazing of the Eye! (kaleidoscopic)… falling up INSIDE and lost now in these fanning blades of light, I shrink to such a particle—so small so fine a fleck before the G L O R I O U S the L U M I N O U S—the golden Iris’ Pupil filling my sight and all the world —rising! in raptured flying toward the Center-Point, beguiled and battered-beaten by the Song I think must kill me. A H !!! Its surging Music swelllllllllls groannnnnnns Haunting and treacherous! Climactic Ever-peaking Evermore And more Still more and deeper resolutions And more, dark, greater resolutions down Resolving Chord to chord And down from chord to chord As down-up falling I fall in with spiral arms enveloping and sounds of Glory singing Glory and of Glory with scents of dirt and mushrooms and of loam and all the fruits and produce of the earth In every spiric fan-arc’s turning swell surrounded by the Glory of the thing, I look… And seeing… gazing into Gaze… and eye to Eye I sense the Structure smiling laughing… laughing and laughing laughinglaughing… and as I look upon it, falling in, as all its colors cup me, ring on ring, I hear the Center of the Spirals say: B R E N D A N, T H A T W H I C H T H O U S O W E S T I S N O T Q U I C K E N E D… at which the Center opens and unfolds a shriveled, maddened, blind Old Man —who adds: “…except it die.” Now I am dropped by It and fall back to myself: standing and staring out—up—with all the rest: at this Great God above us, churning… moving onward now to His own Symphony… as suddenly I realize (standing, weeping): Everything… I realize (laughing, weeping), Now it all B E G I N S.
From The GOD Emerging, a metamodern epic by Brendan Graham Dempsey
Wow, just wow.
Shriveled and blinded...?