Poetry | August 4, 2022
How To Gaze Upon Her
by Alex Light
Be quiet! Stand very still;
It’s the forest’s female hour
Make of these branches a windowsill
See the rarest woman in her flower:
Changed to a tall and swaying reed
With her slow bending,
She’s turning to sip a hidden nectar
Well of strength connects her,
A Woman,
To the grace inferred
She’s the equation of earth added to forever,
Of Heaven added to dark matter,
College learned, blue collar
Stay silent with all your will
(draw on the stoicism of the Tower)
Soon she’ll have her fill
And you’ll see how she makes this power:
The sharp cry and pulling back
Are gigantic dimensions yawning black,
She’s being flooded with persons and worlds,
She embraces their hearts to make them all as pearls,
Don’t be alarmed, but here’s her collapse,
And sleep, and now, relapse.
Oh young brother,
I know your heartbroken gasp,
But I also know what will follow
You can for a moment relax.
See the smallest dragonflies ‘round closed eyelashes
Her body seized in brief spasms
Swarms of insect-light making small flashes
That pass to and fro for fastest repair,
Dimming the light of her beauty to merely Fair
This is when a coward would leap to, unfrozen
Remember you’re a man. Avert your eyes.
Adopt a bifocal vision
Behold the actual and the idealized
Hold the subtle door open!
It need only be three inches in size
We’ll bring to this fallen woman
The small, smallest girl of her life
Step softly holding the faerie-light
Leave the three-inch girl by the beauty’s ear
On this leaf lowered to sleeping-height
We’ll wait an hour hidden near
Dreaming of our long-lost city’s light
Until a warmth wakes us, banishing fear,
Oh god, she’s shining so bright!
She slowly straightens, awakening the watchful glow
I feel I’m an old, achingly old man-soul
Remembering what he was making a man’s life for
Everything, everything, relative to her
Is only the palest rose
Everything is drinking the light of her
Watch how even the roses hungrily grow
Goodbye, young brother,
I can feel in her eyes love’s undertow
Hear my earthly words one last time!
I feel all my senses beginning to rise
Beauty needs you, a man, and your mind,
Else she will never wholly shine
My last moral remakes you in kind,
(now she’s taking my hand,)
You’ll hear it as a wordless rhyme over flowing sand:
Become in this lawless clime Beauty’s companion,
Become finally the steadfast gentleman.
illustration by Austin Hart