by mortar-and-pestle be procured?
Or, the living breath be bottled-up
and so extension be insured?
Oh, how that flitting spark denies
another vessel as its cup!
Alas, when that Great Solstice comes,
cloaked in shadow and decay,
both light and life smothered be:
the spritely vivacity falls away.
And no test tube or pipette,
no ointment, no tincture, no ritual nor prayer
has yet—or ever shall—exhume
the Secret of what once was there.
Originally published in An Introduction to Poetry Theory (2025).
... Sanko Lewis
