Directly above, it was a clear moonless night,
the stars were like those tiny bright explosions
in the brain when it finally starts correlating
seemingly random sense impressions.
All around a soft rain was drizzling, as if
to purify the space before the shaman hovers
over the fire pit with a stern expression,
chanting strange monosyllables.
The contrast between the clear sky overhead
and the ambient rain was not lost on me,
but no particular thoughts formed to qualify
the scene with a fantasy of interpretation.
I was sitting by the fire, but I was also walking
in a land that didn’t quite exist yet, although
every footstep brought it further into being.
Then I wanted to take off my clothes.
I wanted to run very fast with my black dog.
I wanted to step up the stairs of cool dark air.
I wanted to go to that place nobody sees and lives.
I wanted to slowly descend from the sky like rain.
Then I wanted to sink down into the ground there.
There, I would shed all of my skins and be nothing.
Many years — ages — would pass like minutes to men.
After a long while, incalculable, a small sprout
would push up through the crust of soil,
reaching eagerly towards the light.
Then I would know
it had all been worth it.