To a necromancer
of Nicomedia
i. Rome
Do not fear death
or the debt
of that with which
you have been entrusted
wait not for it
while trouble
searches for you
prepare instead a place
of ceremony, make
it sacred through
denying
everything
depriving your
eyes of love’s
ever-weeping
light forever seeking
ii. Constantinople
seekers who will
follow its
ember’s lure by
chariot at nightfall
over and through life’s thaw
knowing you will
have fulfilled
heaven’s will when
like dew upon
dawn’s lips your
armour under
distress of a whisper
melts to a mist
healing with
a soul’s wet kiss
a knight’s ribs pierced not by
iii. Alexandria
conquest but pilgrimage
its fortress walls
a frozen
continent breath
crawls with anguish
cowardice
calling itself
courage vanquishes, flesh
strips when, with all
of your bones
exposed in war
not for justice but waged
against your Self, in your
solitude you
behold hope
within and throw
iv. Antioch
from this circle’s
altar shapes
your ego for
untold eternities
fought providence
with ceaseless
fury to let
possess your body, this
internal enemy
one turn will rend
in two, choose
then your journey’s
route and fortune
with swift wheels
will deliver
you to that truth which for
v. Jerusalem
more than its worth
your pain pays
trading silence
for suffering, this quest
impossible for pens
to reduce to
quotations
best expressed when
experienced
so speak not
of wisdom won
unless chosen by hands
unseen to seek
and to find
and keep secret
what a crossroads reveals.