Issue Seventeen - December 2010

Reading Jung Late at Night

By Maya Borhani

I see the pictures now just as they are,
golden knights and a fearsome dragon
come to contend for the fate of our souls.
They rise from the page in a language known
achingly to each dreamer, slumbering,
well-patterned after the waking life, and
what yet is to come in years tightly furled.
A world of images to be roused in
their own time, following hidden footsteps
most often undertaken in darkness,
confusion after childhood has long
ended, and the second sleep upon us,
arc of adulthood curving to the deep.
Beautifully wrought ships carry us inward,
myth our own to seek alone, unafraid,
serpent eating her own tail, mandalas
of color and light the reward we seek.
Awakened in our own time, to the god
within we bow down, queens and kings knowing
service to that most native in us all:
the life unlived guiding us to the end,
below the roar of tossing seas, or high
in cantilevered skies shedding sunbeams,
that which no teacher can ever tell, what
lives dangerously inside our own hearts.

Copyright Maya Borhani 2010

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