The Teacher  (The Socratic Departure)

I will drink this cup of gall,
swallowing the bitterness
setting fire to earth’s waste.

But first I caress this chalice.
Its depth mirrors my heart,
shaking the foundations
of my very own selves.

Now splendid trepidatons
challenge the ultimatums
by which the earth rocks.

Challenge me, o gods,
not to see the outside
that has no bounds,
nor the inside that does not
set feel to the outside,
nor the depth
which encapsules other worlds.

Winds that know me by my name,
sunlight that weeps with my tears
and the night sky which covers
my brittle bones with the white moon
will continue to call me . . .and remember.

I will drink of this cup and
set loose the forces
that muddle the minds of men.

In chaos they will seek order . . .and there is none.
In the written word
they will seek understanding. . .
and there is none.
In the marriage bed they will seek delight. . .
and there is none.

Cross the stars.  Challenge the arch angels.
Banish the gods.   And quickly I will drink of this cup.
But tell me. . . . .

Who will teach the children?