And the Young Men Shall Utterly Fall

The boy breathes in affinity with a sullen star,

beholds it in a pure, unfalsifying eye,

listens to the silence of the sky,

and reads a mute concordance

between himself and sky as text.

He resists, asserting himself against all

comprehension and discussion,

all attempts to solve the secrets of youth

with the cold magic of the concept

as he persists in the being of a thing in itself.

The grandfather’s hands demand emergence

from the narcissistic shade of youth.

Commanded by the Fathers and the wise,

the boy must break the wing,

embark upon a flight of the alone to the Alone.

This is a voyage of the young in soul,

countermanding death’s demands.

But what becomes an Icarus beating

wings against the bulging red,

an unselved youth lusting after death?

An old man in the sunset, yearning

for night and the light of the sullen star,

the boy must fall and fall utterly.

There is no searching of his understanding,

no probing of the depthless deep.