If goslings see this image moving left
they do nothing, thinking it is their mother;
to the right, they scatter, believing it is a hawk.
That it cannot be distinguished,
except for the direction in which it moves.
That it is only in this movement,
that we can know.
That to the left takes us back, where
each word has infinite possibility.
That to the right, where we are always
headed, leads to our end.
That the literal preempts the possible.
That the symbolic gives birth to all.
That our deliverance at each end is
to be feared and revered.
That the agent of our deliverance is both
beautiful and cruel.
That both are always true.
One and the same, eternally opposite.
That we are goslings,
and thus cannot know.
That we must see the hawk
and know Mother.