The Ancient Modern

Mythopoesis  /  Joshua Alan Sturgill

Imagine with me 
I have invented a Tool, a means 
to accomplish the perfect art.  

My Tool leaves no residue, 
no pollution or remainder.  
All things are its medium,

because it remakes all things
into what they are.  Stars into 
angels; water into blood; stones

interpret the sea.  Mountains 

the letters of its alphabet.  Time 
halts, patient as a canvas 

under the painter’s brush.  All 
bound together.  All a tree.  
All portrait.  Every surface

a window.  Appearance, poetry.
Then, imagine with me
I teach my children the secrets 

of the Tool.  We become a family 
of craftsmen, the great artisans 
of history.  Yet we leave 

no monuments, no lasting cities,
since our Tool is strong enough 
to be intangible.  Tuned 

to silence.  Obvious, unobserved. 
Imagine the effect of the Tool
on the human soul. From

my children’s children, Verity
is respired like the blue haze 
rising from a mountain lake 

on a Summer dawn.  Without
coercion, they come to us
to be named: both galaxies

and insects, the whole Cosmos
aching to be dressed
in saffron and ermine and gold


All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2021 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.

2 thoughts on “Mythopoesis

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