My head is a jungle, trees and beasts
And shadows of old shapes
Only imagined. There she feasts
On putrid meats and grapes,
Elusive tigress, waiting, biding.
We hunt each other, stalking, hiding.

Did Lao Tzu ever imagine such a thing?
Did Martin Luther dream this dream?

Who remembers how the first questions
Were conceived; remembers the farmer
Recalls the mental massing of
Innocent villagers,
Stuffing of spears and grammar,
Body counting as one by one they fell
Until we two only remain
The striped query and I?

Did Lao Tzu ever imagine such a thing?
Did Martin Luther dream this dream?

My head is a jungle, fears and cries
And mutinies. There
She hunts, never sleeps or flies
Away. My uncut hair
Is going silver. I feel my knees
Collapsing under all these trees.

Did Lao Tzu ever imagine such a thing?
Did Martin Luther dream this dream?