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| "Ari Ben Aaron, Self-Portrait, 1981" © 2016 David Prashker |
I have few observations to make tonight -
and these through the wrong end of the telescope
How the motions of the planets become
diurnal
inert
and infinite
turning mechanically upon spirals
and amid vortices
and among stars
How the names come down from generation to generation
unchanged
immutable
gaining nothing
losing nothing
simply coming down
How the rod of Aaron became a stem of flowers
and then a shepherd’s crook
and then a wand
and then a devining instrument
and finally my own pen
How Tiresias went down to the Piraeus with Glaucon son of Ariston, and said a prayer to Isis, and stood a while watching the ass-festival, and imagined that he saw his own likeness, reflected in a pool of muddy water.
How I wait here tonight
as I have waited every night
(and each night is the same
yet different)
watching the orbits of the hourglass
counting the sand’s gyrations
touching the ciphers of your name
Ayishah
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