PIT OF BEING

The birth-doctor holds aloft
the bloody flag of life
screaming God! Christ! Om!
Ejaculate the elements
from the bleeding crown of Here!
The petals have parted for an instant
and the jewel-box has spat this gobbet
upon the forehead of time!
Conjunction of stars and blood!
Cruel bright wheel
churning the icy milk of the firmament
into furrows of flesh
with its name written on the inside
that only the third eye can see!
The lips are sealed henceforth
by the heavy hand of earth.
The sleeper wakes into dream, and soon
the dream will sleep into wake.