Canticle of the Derelict Night
XXII
Dig thee a way through the wall before their eyes:
And thou shalt go forth through it.
Cold had invited itself to my place of repose on a starless,
Lonely and wet night, chilling me, causing me fear I was dying,
Shivering, aching in dread, so I duly considered the parlous;
Slowly concocting a plan, and a lone quest worth my trying,
Thinking of what I had seen as could offer me warmth in its wearing,
Little I owned and the clothing I made from materials found near,
Such as the coats of unclean beasts, cut and recast to a paring,
Which were a suitable cover for sun, but for winds up around here,
These were but worthless; so thinking of what I had seen in the week past,
Thither across the descent to the curious site I discovered,
Thinking the sendal, the cloth at the cave-mouth caught in a peak-draft,
Might be a garment of a greater collection, and though I was governed,
Nay, I am ought to comply with forbidding the mixing of fabrics,
Other arrangements were likely around if the sendal remained there
After its people had fled, for if true to the Law and its practice,
Then it was not worn, rather, compiled; if this was refrained wear,
Surely the people had this as a piece from a trove of their treasure,
Others were present as well, thick cloths, wools, even a chemise,
Better I risk it — thus in the dark, I depart on endeavor,
Moving between clefts lest I be caught in the zephyrous menace,
Scampering down on the travertine route to the hoot of an owl,
Opening the fresh wounds split on my sore feet, tortured and blackened,
Crossing a path with a skittering vole and a jackal in howl,
Beasts of example of life in the night, and so quickly it happened
That in a moment their sounds and their presence had vanished to light air,
Making it seem as if nothing had passed; I continued coolly,
Burdened by agonied feet and my heart-beat rapid; a nightmare,
This it had felt, as if none of it really was happening truly,
Till I was down to the cliff-neck facing the sea in a black drop,
Bringing its memory back to my mind, moon pouring its dimmed-glowed,
Milky descents on the hollow, the carved cave mouth in the jagg’d rock,
Echoing spurious voices unreal to whenever the wind blowed,
Greeting the air with unwelcome moroses and Stygian trammels
Binding the ambient sounds I had heard on the way to a silence,
Turning to whispers, it seemed, all the far-off croaks of the camels;
Shrieks of perfidious raptors nocturnal exacting their violence;
Even a noise as the voice of a man, if but spurious sounding;
These disappeared in the groan of the cave, and I hush and I halt quick:
Didst thou feel it? the ground, it is breathing, and its heart, it is pounding,
Trembling, living and moving about on its eyrie basaltic,
Slowly advancing I crawled past stones in their settings of judgment,
Watching me drag on the gravel with painful a crunch in my movement
Till I had passed on the left the display of the raiment repugnant,
Lifting myself on the lip of the cave and its mason’d improvement,
Catching a glimpse in the moon-light glimmering sight of a gold bed
Deeper within, so I hastened my crawl and expected the best case
Once I had entered; and neither the sinister gloom nor the cold ebbed,
Though in the rayless enclosure, descending in darkness and less space,
Goods were positioned so close to the cave-mouth that I was eager,
Wary of possible hazards protecting the hoard all aglinting
Though in my heart I was after a treasure decidedly meager:
Warmth, and as soon as I knew this cave was in heated consisting,
Lifted my caution; and laying my belly aground on the ruddy,
Vegetal clay at the lip of the cavern, but seeming deserted,
Elbowed my way into darkness, and catching a waft of a bloody,
Uric aroma, and turning my head I had quickly averted,
Blurred in my vision by tears, but so fast on a draft it abated,
That I, encouraged, proceeded, the spate cold lost on the cave rock,
Warmer within, and I inched forth down in the entrance ungraded,
Till I was several cubits inside, and I felt all my weight drop,
Sudden and light, with no sound to accompany panic and terror
Going from stillness to motion, I fell from position with froze blood
Little I knew how the cavern abetted my slip and my error,
Adding confusion to evil, and then I was slowed to a slowed thud,
Knocking the breath of my lips free, followed by desp’rately gasping;
Once I regained wind, pain in my torso had gained my attention
While I tried to reorient; first was the cavern collapsing —
Not to my estimate since it was soundless; in dull comprehension,
Maybe I simply had fallen in negligent crawl in a chasm,
Lightless and damp, and as hard as I mentally tried to remap it,
Nothing suggested I slipped, it was like this rock, in a spasm,
Gave out under my weight, now strewn on the ground as a maggot,
Squirming and groaning in agony; nothing was broken I venture,
Nothing as painful as when I was robbed of my limb in the desert,
Hurt as I felt; I suplined and inspected for where I was tender,
Finding it not; I arose with a grunt and considerable effort,
Raising my arm to detect low ceilings, and once I was standing,
Groped in the murk of the shadows for something to steady my tremor,
Whether a wall or a pillar, but nothing became of my scanning;
Breathing in tune with the heave of the earth, high ancient a tenor,
Languidly therefore I shuffled with out-stretched arm in direction,
Seeing no light from the moon in the deep of my cave situation . . .
After a series of steps I was graced with a solid connection,
Resting a moment, I lashed to myself to the chalky formation;
Thinking I might be inclined to await of the dawn and its stark ray,
Till I considered with feeble condition, I never shall make it,
Feeling no ceiling nor ledge near, that on a ever-afar day
Someone can find me deceased: I am hungry and weary and naked;
Couched, unrelenting; the dark is a mire, forsaken and dizzied,
Leaving my senses bereft and without one anchor to give mind,
Which I could meet with a pause, and the empty was suddenly busied:
Dripping with water and groaning primeval, and more I could still find
Listening, smelling and feeling intention’ly; ever so gently,
Miniscule currents of air were in motion, and like confirmation,
Coming from where that running of liquid was making its entry;
Keeping my fore-arm flush on the rock for concrete information,
Easy to say, I am terrified, facing a curtain of jet-black,
Greatly confused, for I know not what I was victim to tumble,
Nor am I privy to gather if this is a trivial set-back,
Soon to be over, or whether I fell with a covetous stumble
Down into what can become for me permanent burial hidden,
Far from the light of the world and unknown to the kin of my nation;
Nay, I rebuke it, o Lord, and I ask of the thought to be ridden,
That I am not now frightened of death, but of Hell and temptation:
Might I despair! for the options are slim: to continue to shuffle,
Slow and deliberate; sit and be buried; or hopelessly panic;
Thus I elect of the first as I trudge in the dungeonous muffle,
Feeling the wall of the cavern become cold, smooth and ceramic
Whilst in my heart, in its rapid and perilous motions of due fear,
Thinking of phantasms lurking in wait to consume my redeemed soul,
Ghastly in form with a mournful expression, and knowing it drew near —
Tedious fantasies sure to precede some other unseen hole
That I can fall into deeper and harder and hastily perish —
Phantoms, begone from my sight! for I feel grooves carved in the smooth stone,
Signs of the people above, and for these I was tempted to cherish
Till I discovered with foot-falls piles of cinder and strewn bone,
Potsherds and fugue-rot animal hides in a pit from a lapse deep,
Meaning I blundered my way into where things, being discarded,
Plummet and then disappear, I again in a hideous slag-heap,
Different that in Gehenna, escaping was not so uncharted,
That I was close to the surface; but now I am truly forsaken,
None are aware of my presence and none are obliged to my rescue,
Only the Lord is a witness, o God! as the dawn shall awaken,
Grant me salvation! for there is but One for my pleas to address to,
One to redeem; and I tread the perimeter, keeping my arm stretched,
Losing no distance to safety, repeating a psalm of repentance,
Plotting the space in my mind with a brisk pace, not to be heart-wrenched
Might I discover no exit or find it cruelly tremendous;
After repetitive plodding in darkness with shaking suspicion,
Coming again to the grooves in the cave-rock, roughly I sketched it,
Mentally picturing this smooth wall as a starting position,
Running oblong a perimeter clock-wise which, to my credit,
Borders a deeper and steeper descent I avoided
Several paces in length, and my fall was along its gradation;
Everywhere else was a closed precipice, which disappointed
Since I was bound to a drop-off lacking my orientation
Whether I faced its card’nal direction, so might I go down steep,
Seeking escape if I found in it spring-heads flowing extrinsic,
Maybe supposing my grave might wait in the sound deep,
This be a guess and a risk; so I thought of the features specific
That were around here: travertines meant springs, though in my alcove,
Nothing I heard was a sign of a trickling fountain in motion,
Even if water it gave was as sloth and as slough as canal flow
Noise was produced nonetheless, and from here it was silent and frozen;
Confident, though, in another occurrence, I scoured the wall-length,
Running my arm in a vertical pattern to search for a pocket
Made by the flow of a spring-head higher above and with squall-strength;
Such was my thought: this cove was produced by a flow from a socket,
Not from the chasm I fell, as the sharp drop-off was substantial
Meaning it likely was shaped by collapsing and not from erosion,
Thus in my blindness I groped for the grasp of a crocketed channel,
Rubbing my sore flesh down the façade in a circular motion
Thinking the travertines, which were reputed for this, were a sure sign
Coupled with this still-deeper descent, a production of seepage,
That I was right, and in minutes an emptier recess, a firm find
Guided my arm into quietly discharged artesian leakage;
Once I evaluate this with my means to determine dimensions,
Using my arm as a cubit, I measure it best as I might do,
Feeling it open enough for my body to squeeze in extension,
Yea, for my head and my shoulders I sense it is fitting, and climb through,
Entering first by my head, and a tickle of water, a light flume,
Raced on my neck to my chest as I pressed into better position,
Which had confirmed my conclusion, the passage was not to invite doom,
Rather it ran with the flow of a spring-head; trusting my decision,
Scraped on my flesh on the razory lime-stone teeth in the tunnel,
Stiff earth pressing, constricting my body with gravely needle
Hampering comfort’ble movement; the feeling is making me humble,
Fitted below great summits, above earth mighty, primeval,
Left in their gap but a small hand-breadth in proportionate spacing,
Worming my way in its gracious divide, if it might by a half-span
Shift and be done with my wriggling in ignorance what I was facing,
Burying deeper in hadal abyss, with a nerve and a daft plan,
Which as I crawled in my blindness was mercif’ly, sharply rewarded
When I was greeted with an increase of water, in warmth and in volume,
Wetting my clothes and refreshing my flesh as I twist and contorted,
Arms at my side and face to the dirt at the base of the rock-tomb;
Somewhere ahead was the fountain responsible, keeping its burden,
Waters of ancient decree from the bowels of shapeless abysses
Rising to meet me in chanced an encounter from firmaments’ curtain,
Follows the heavens’ commandment in sharing ineffable riches,
Clean and ironic’ly pleasant in heat, as to satisfy that quest,
What I had come for in principle, now was bequeathed in abundance;
Even so, struggle I must if escape is to ever be accessed,
That in a derelict night as is this, I have naught for encumbrance,
Only a motive impelling a struggle in resolute power
Further advancing in spite of the harsh rock with its bruising,
Cutting and pressure, I shamble: a soul in a lusterless hour
Under the whole world, weary, but rest I continue refusing,
Quickening pace with the warmth and the depth of the water increasing,
Sloshing about in its stream, with its movement no longer a whisper,
Suddenly going from warm to a temper’ture scalding, displeasing,
Giving me reason to think it was turning my flesh to a blister,
Even as now all the fingers of rock dug harsher and meaner,
Little I care to desist from my pace: I can opt for endurance,
Buffeted not by the agony, otherwise lift my demeanor
While I perish, accepting the grave of a waterlogged furnace;
Lest I be tempted, I dragged on with figur’tive poise in the crawl-way
Thinking of nothing but where it can lead, as it surely connected,
Given the heat and the volume of water, for water is always,
Even in small flows, carving itself through ducts it directed,
Now it was carving its way into me! I am thus inundated,
Thoroughly, searing my body and flooding the tunnel entire,
Making it such that taking a desperate breath was abated,
Drawing it only from space on the ceiling — my flesh is on fire,
Darkness abounds, I am steadily losing the strength for prevailing,
Knowing the cavern is not so designed by the hands of a mere man,
Nay, I am not guaranteed I can make it, I maybe am failing,
Dizzied by sleeplessness, misery, vexed by a foggy, unclear plan,
Till in a sudden, peculiar moment a freedom was gifted,
Letting me move of my head, I arose and a breath I devoured,
Sucking in cold air stagnant and tainted, but air unrestricted:
This was the source of the flow, underground stream welcome but loured,
Echoing gurgles of spring-leaked water with audible empty,
Which as I shouldered my body above it, I slowly adjusted,
Seeing no light from my entry, and sounds were inscrutable plenty
Under the clamor by which great gulps of the waters were thrusted,
Steaming and terribly warm, and regaining my sense I defected
Grasping on smooth stone lining the shore to evacuate forthwith,
Rolling upon it and sighing, I poured out all I collected:
Horror and fear and a consummate loneliness, surely a fourth, fifth,
Welled up as mightily might this spring-stream keep to its cadence;
Sobbing beside this stream as a captive of Babylon might weep
Resting his lyre on the poplars and willows of foreign acquaintance,
Till I was clean, and my blurred sight spotted a fragment of light creep,
Froward in darkness, appear on the high-roofed face of the lime-rock
Spelled on the wall up above, and it vanished in soundless recession,
Which as it happened so suddenly, made me to stand so I might walk,
Cutting a span short what was a momentary nerve decompression
Leading to shuffle again in the black of a rivery chamber
Toward the place I observed it, and pondering not of my fortunes —
That I was able to crawl underwater without but an anchor,
Neither with certainty that it was passage to even a warrens,
Heaping up waters or fading to solemn abyss disregarded–
Now I had seen sparks, light; was it day? but it fled from my seeing,
Winking as through palm leaves up until it had turned and departed,
This was apparent: I must be approaching a means for my fleeing,
Light can be given by phosphors in rock, but to flash and diminish?
Never I once had beheld it in such a preposterous motion,
Bidding me forth on the slippery pebbles of shadowish finish
Sundering shore from the waters, and stumbled on its hapless erosion,
Which was a signal in kind, and I paused; on a durst course,
Waters were come to a vestibule which entertained a refraction,
Fragments of light, and the waters were hailing from somewhere it burst forth
Near my repose, so I might, to continue the course of my action
Follow it where I expected the travertines ought to commingle,
Sourced from a spring by the summit, exposed or at least of sufficient,
Billowing force to accommodate movement, with small of a wrinkle:
That I am confident falsely, my knowledge of this is deficient,
Caves are mysterious, ever-defying my mortal abstractions,
Nothing I know of it matters or mirrors the truth of the matter,
Yet as in every darkness, the light is in the mind in refractions;
Placing my heaviest steps to the notes of a rivery chatter,
Scrutinized where I imagined the source to be found with precautions
Taken at every shambling fall of the foot in my blindness,
Keeping my watch and a vigilant mind as the best of my options,
Muttering many a prayer beseeching the Lord for His kindness,
Lest I be raised from the dead, from Gehenna, from Hell to a new birth,
Witnessing terrors and maimed for my faith in the God of my nation
Only to perish unknown and unseen in a tomb of unhewn earth
Under the weight of a mountain forgotten: a waste of salvation;
Then to my pleasure I greeted the lime-faced wall at the bound’ry,
Whence I proceeded to task, with my fore-arm used for a measure,
Counted its width and determined I ought to be fit for it soundly,
Thus I returned to position, and bowed to familiar pressure
Placing my shoulders within it, head craned left to the hot flow,
Pushed to be pinned in the mouth of the spring-fed, irrigous tunnel,
Squirming about, and I, wary as ever, atilt in the hollow,
Pressed in and halted, and held on my breath; it was shaped as a funnel,
Tightening much, so withdrawing I fell to the stones on the bank, squat,
Puzzled but not so inclined to dejection, I circled the cavern
Loud with the rush of the waters, discomfited, yes but I shrank not,
Figuring that, with the volume of water to blame for my half-burn,
Multiple springs were abound, and their waters converged in the darkness,
Which all the more was conspicuous after I measured the crevice,
Lesser in force, and compared to the scorch of its flume, it was harmless;
Probing for others, I heedfully proffered a method to test this:
Blocking the alcove I crawled in before, it was easily stymied,
Yet in the cavern the echoes continued, unmuffled as ever,
Thus I continued: I clung to the wall and began at a light speed
Counting the cubits and mentally mapping the terrain from its measure,
Finding no origins where I expected the waters to flow from,
Only the river dividing it, that one course I discovered,
Several travertine-like stove-hot pools, brimming and doldrum,
Ledges with runoff to dark depths, jut stones everywhere cluttered,
Lichenous rock-face, then I was graced as I dipped into wading,
Something of curious origins, floating in recess of river:
Gently it grazed me and startled me, dark and obscureness pervading,
Though I was wont to confirm of the objects the waters deliver,
Found it again and inspected it, making it out as insteeped wood,
Maybe a branch, and I paused; I assessed its location, inspective,
Tracing the current responsible: only a grace, a supreme good,
Carried it here from its tree, for no branch, from realistic perspective
Grows in the dark of a spring-source; finding a pattern, a vortice
Swirling the pool with distinction, and slid on my heels for deducing,
Linking the wood to a cataract muffled but wide and enormous,
Shallow and slipp’ry but long such that its torrential diffusing
Made but a trickle the steeper and louder streams overpowered;
Pressing myself to its stone-bed, grimly I clambered its slow rise
Toward its origins, gripping its surfaces seamless and scoured,
Making me crane up my neck for my inhales, and grip it with both thighs
Till it had tightened to slim halls, steep-sloped, treacherous, frightful,
Dark and unknown, but I reckoned a fall was afar from a swell fate,
Thus for the twenty or more hand-holds, each grip was delightful
Since it was surety; now as I crawl it expands in a bell-shape
Which, as before on the wall, was aflicker, a brighter horizon
Lifting the veil of the black cave-darkness in gradual auras,
Halted upon an aslant ledge, squat and inviting the light in,
Flowing in smooth, pale halos, disturbed by interior floras
Swaying with torpor in morning arousal of sun incandescence,
Which was unable to penetrate deep in the passage’s gloom-grey,
Keeping its mysteries baleful, and here, I was betwixt with its presence,
Fixed on the cusp of reprieve, in the glories of light and a soon-day,
Where I relaxed and again wept, knowing my journey was sacred,
Thrust into Hell twice, over again was dismissed from the void-blight,
Making it known I was loved, I am loved; I had found a degraded,
Nemorous, rib-caged mouth of a cavern, a marred and enjoyed sight
Meeting cascades from the summit; I shuffled to better position,
Dazed as I hazily squint and adjust to the hour I viewed on
Shadowing clusters of houses afar, an Ein-Gedi partition
Waking today to the miracled, still-dim shine of a new dawn,
searching for warmth on a cold night • fell in a deep cave
climbing through waterlogged passage • pools of spring-water
a stick in the water directs me upward • escape into day-break