Perceptual Portal by Geneen Marie Haugen

perceptual portal

Perceptual Portal

by Geneen Marie Haugen

My antennae sweep and scan 
for reception, for a portal 
in perception, for a porous 
passage to a green breathing 
land where every presence 
offers itself to be known, 
where everything speaks,
even galaxies, even stone,

where interspecies 
lovetalk leaps like 
flashing fish and flying 
dragons in blue-pooled 
dream canyons, where poems 
sprout from cracked bark 
of sequoia and oak, and
madcap music mushrooms 
from decay and darkness.

Sometimes human beings listen, 
ears tilting in a creaturely way, 
tuned to something not entirely 
audible though there is no barrier
to reception, and through
this listening we might remember
how to live, hearing the old 
voice that still bells forth
from the primal body
who birthed us all,

the old voice reverberating
along tendrils of mycelia
that entwine the human psyche
with the mother tree:
living psyche of Earth.

It's not a far country or fictional 
galaxy, but an unfiltered mode 
of consciousness with no screen
to block or deaden the Others 
and their always-streaming voices, 
their ancient kinships, star-studded 
extravaganzas, where even human 
beings might harmonize their wildly

necessary sound. I have sojourned 
plenty in that stone-talking terrain
but lost the way of return
busy as I was with all varieties
of civilized absurdity, 
forgetting I even had
antennae, formed long
before we became human.

But here: a passageway 
opens on the mossy edge 
of imagination. Shadows 
illustrate the way, flicker 
and hum their own language.

Praise the revived antennae
and sing with the Others now:
cackling trills, creaking 
dreams, moon swoons, rough
poems sprouting from
portals in perception.

Header Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

Featured Image: Frequencies Contained in Nature [Collage]. Doug Van Houten