Weyman Chan - from Hypoderm: notes to myself

chimeras
(after Nag Hammadi)


Son of the ineffable silence, let this be the one
System to believe in, speak for, and be bound to,
Whose answers do not need answering. Where the male-female
Drinks freely, and where light and dark do not gather
Mind. You are pre-existent, unbegotten.
You wear the clear garment of insight. Your truth shall not undo
The shadows, nor pass in ignorance over unrighteous water.
Death’s surety will be broken, though
Its figured pattern will travail forever as the face behind
Our remainder of sin, compassion and grace,
Never again whole. It is the word redemptive
Testaments embrace; it preceded you at the last sunset.
Let the living spirit who is singular furl herself around your loins,
Womb to brow, where bewilderment is our bread,
Transparency our wine. Only then can Chaos be forever bound.
This is the middle silence, where ineffable love met evil,
Vanquished it, and drove female intercourse and male perdition
Beyond the everlasting. Thus begins the cycle of forms.
Sorrow shattering grief. Every tear shall not be wiped away
When the day or our lord is at hand. We teach ourselves
To hunt down most chimeras.