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Based on the James Turrell artwork at The National Gallery

of Australia in Canberra…

IMG_6105

 

Within Without

 

We have chanced to wonder at the Skyspace

and find ourselves drawn down the sloping path

to the Victorian basalt stupa.

We enter through a portal, so smoothly,

as if flies had followed the labyrinth

of a cochlea, or had gained entrance

to the gentle spiral of a snail shell,

only to hear a quiet ululation.

The universe is made immanent and

we sit on a concrete bench, out of time,

searching for a cloud like a camel, or

a shape like a whale, but all is cloudless.

We are alone and yet we are connected,

within; without – experience distilled –

interior and exterior are

like the two vessels of an alembic.

Are we in a maharajah’s tomb, or

Pharoanic chamber? We are infused

by a laser beam of cosmic insight.

The world tilts on its axis and we see

segments of reality as they change,

until the sun adjusts its slanting beams,

casting a gnomic shadow on us,

branding us with a present awareness.

No clutter of materiality:

there’s only an uncanny sense of peace.

At some point the operculum descends.

Either our eyes, or the oculus blinked.