The Other Day
What transpired before that spring’s even warming night
Above, from heaven’s flowing firth, the greys and blues
O’er hills here, heights of lonely islands breaching hues
Above the valley's depths, a mist of glowing truth
As a golden grasp of sunlight shone through from night
Clutching the world in an oceanic embrace
Of light—
And I whispered softly, ‘see their somnolent god.’
With windows down, and vision turned—I thought to stop
Alas that wending highway has no resting place
The measurement concealed, alive in memory’s trace.
©2026 R.A.R. Knight
Author’s Note:
In many ways related to a reading of Jung and his conversation with Pueblo Indians on the nature of their religious experience of the Sun, an immanent religious tradition utterly lost to the western mind. See his book Memories, Dreams, Reflections in the chapter on Travels.
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