II THE PAPESS: I AM THE WATER BETWEEN THE TOWERS

I choose my path between
the warring twin towers
& become my own current.
I breathe heavily of the sea
& mediate
with my book
between the two gibraltars.

One is lotus-white, pure,
righteous as Aristotle,
& certain of his truth.
He pulls me to him, chanting,
"But the truth
cannot mislead you."
He is a golden prince, eager & boring,
who permits himself no knowledge
of the colours of honeybees,
or the songs of tigers,
or the waterwheel's heavy plunge.

The other, black as mischief,
dwelled with Chaos before Uranus' time
& fell.
Dionysian, I fear him,
even fear his truth.

He is the devil my father warned me of;
he sits on a self-made throne.
Yet the gleam in his eye is real fire,
& from the height of his black tower
he has glimpsed
the very edge of the silver sea.
He draws me to his embrace--
I recoil at his darkness.

Alone,
I glean knowledge from my book;
its blue safety,
its comforting solitude.
It is not yet time
to set sail.

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