THE FOREST ANALOGY
In his retort the alchemist repeats the work of Nature
Few would defend a small view of Alchemy as "Mother of Chemistry," and confuse its true goal with those external metal arts. Alchemy is involved in buried aspects of reality, aimed at purifying and transforming all being and matter.
Not to suggest that material operations are ever
abandoned. The adept holds to both the mystical and physical work.
Strange, fertile correspondences the alchemists
sensed in unlikely orders of being. Between
men and planets, plants and gestures, words and
weather.
On the eve of Jim's birthday, I wish to introduce to the readers the subjective forest analogy used in his poetry as it signifies in its highest importance -the essence of nature and its subjective surrounding sensations to be a very critical part of his verse construction and imageries. The forest is a symbol of growth, decay and rebirth - a self sustaining ecosystem that balances itself through mutual symbiosis. The forest is the essential source of natural creativity unhindered by man or human interference as it goes on growing wildly unperturbed by in its silence. The Forest symbolises the hermit, the retired sage in deep meditation and self-revealation sitting quietly among the canopy of trees that shelter him with their old wisdom of witnessing in silence. The forest signifies the ultimate conjuction of the self with the soul as one finds oneself at peace in the heart of nature.
MYSELF IN THE FOREST
The unblinking blind eyes
behind walls new histories rise
and wake growling and whining
the weird dawn of dreams.
Dogs lie sleeping.
The wolf howls.
A creature lives out the war.
A forest.
A rustle of cut words, choking
river.
Quick, in raw time, serving
stealth & slumber,
grinding warm forests into restless lumber.
Jim's repeated use of the forest imagery, highlights the hidden subjective experiences of self-renewal, rebirth and the need for a natural reconnection with the source of life. The forest acts as an imagery for life beyond artificialities, a purgatory for self- discovery in utter silence and calm stillness.
Mangled hands
Tales of the old Days
Discovery of the Sacred Pool
changes
Mute-handed stillness baby cry
The wild dog
The sacred beast
Find her!
Surreptitiously
They smile
Inviting-Smiling
Choktai leave!
evil leave!
No come here
Leave Her!
A creature is nursing
its child
soft arms around
the head & the neck
a mouth to connect
leave this child alone
This one is mine
I'm taking her home
Back to the rain
Sea-bird sea-moan
earthquake murmuring
Fast-burning incense
Clamoring surging
Serpentine road
To the Chinese caves
Home of the winds
The gods of mourning
The city sleeps
& the uynhappy children
roam w/animal gangs.
They seem to speak
to their friends
the dogs
who teach them trails.
Who can catch them?
Who can make them come inside?
Catalog of Horrors
Descriptions of Natural disaster
Lists of miracles in the divine canal
Catalog of objects in the room
List of things in the sacred river.
Cypress was their talk
Fish-call & bird-song
Roots & signs
They chanced to be there
Guides, to the white
gods.
Where are your manners
out there on the sunlit
desert
boundless galaxies of dust
cactus spines, beads
bleach stones, bottles
& rust cars, stored for shaping
He spoke to me. He frightened
me w/laughter. He took
my hand, & led me past silence into cool whispered
Bells.
Cinema returns us to anima, religion of matter,
which gives each thing its special divinity and
sees gods in all things and beings.
- James Douglas Morrison
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