Through the Golden Bough, you enter
wide opened mouth of the earth
to the sub- sky,
to the only end of darkness
under a dull light
of black suns­

you touch oceans of shadows,
beaches of lost fallen leaves,
the Angelus Novus: he lets not
look backwards the crossing people

overtaking the Father,
enlightened by lights of future lives,
you arrive just to the ivory door of wrong dreams.
An interior, hidden mind spreads around the worlds

if eyes opened even for a flash,
they could see how things are:
rain's slow drops on a window pane.