Poetry | Second Sight | Mary Ann Schaefer

Second Sight
listen

Close your eyes. Shut them hard. Seal them
and subtract your devotion to imagery.

In the deep, deep bone-rattling cold of winter darkness
where even the idea of a sun has waned,
vision is a useless sense; the eyes are needless organs.
So you fumble and bump, you cry and whimper, you bemoan
your blindness in the colorless world
you have used only as a habitat for sleep.
But in this nocturnal space
dwell the shape-shifting voices of nothingness,
the intravenous secrets of spirit.
Be still and listen.
Listen for yourself to the hearty creatures of the dark.

I am the microscopic elements:
an Atom, a Molecule, DNA, a Cell dividing.
I am the ancient cave-dwelling Troglodyte whole body directly absorbs sound waves.
I am the deep sea Shrimp with antennae up to 12 times my body length.
I am the modified muscle fibers of the electric Eel surrounded by the oscillation of self-made energy.
I am the tunneling soil-digesting Earthworm.
I am the orb-weaving Spider whose perfect lacework I construct in the pitch of blackness by touch alone.
I am the beacon signal of the Firefly in approach of my mate.
I am the release of fragrance by the nocturnal blossoms
of Water Lilies, Honeysuckle, the Evening Primrose.
I am the Tree identifiable only by the sound of Wind in my leaves:
the whisper of Willows, the prattle of Poplars,
the sighs of silver Birches, the harp in the needles of a Pine.
I am the ultrasonic echoing of Bats.
I am the thermal-sensitive scaled skin of the Pit Viper.
I am the inner-ear gyrocompass of the night-migrating Robin, the Purple Finch, the Barn Swallow.
I am the whereabouts instinctively mapped by the kinesthetic sense of Rabbits.
I am the Cat’s whiskers.
I am the clear night call of the Wolf, the Whippoorwill, the Tree Frog, the Katydid,
the Poet, the occasional Angel.

I am, at last, the woman standing before you on a moonless night.
I have three heads.
I am surrounded by baying hounds.
My hair is a nest of writhing snakes.
I am Hecate, the crone of the moon goddess trinity,
the goddess of sorcery and witchcraft, the queen of night and death.
I meet you at these crossroads and welcome you
to the underworld where your destiny remains unfulfilled.

This is the place where looking within reveals all.
This is the place where fear becomes your lover.
This is the place you change. Only now
shall I show you the portal of rebirth. Now
shall you rise to drive the chariot of the sun
across the constellations with a promise on your lips,
the certain knowledge of returning home to the dark,
to the recess, the sanctum, the womb.

Remembering,
open your eyes and fathom light.