The Pull of Mars

Summary

The text is a poetic contemplation on the inspirational and transformative power of exploration, particularly the metaphorical journey towards Mars, which parallels a deep inner journey.

Abstract

The passage titled "The Pull of Mars" delves into the metaphorical and literal journey of discovery, suggesting that knowledge and creativity are not confined but rather destined to escape and manifest in new forms, much like Prospero's books in Shakespeare's "The Tempest." The author draws a parallel between the depths of the sea and the vastness of space, implying that both realms hold the potential for birthing new ideas and forms of existence. The narrative speaks of a transcendent experience where one sails through the Martian atmosphere, capturing the 'diamond dew' that symbolizes rare and valuable insights. The text evokes the imagery of a mythical quest, with references to Arthurian legend and the struggle between light and darkness, suggesting a personal and societal transformation that occurs when old paradigms are challenged. The author awaits the return of 'assassins'—perhaps ideas or creations once set free—that now come to reveal the cyclical nature of teaching and learning, creation and destruction.

Opinions

The author believes that human potential and creativity are limitless and can be inspired by the mysteries of space and the sea.
There is an opinion that the pursuit of knowledge involves moving beyond the comfort of reason into a realm where the spirit and imagination take precedence.
The text suggests that the act of creation is also an act of letting go, allowing ideas to evolve and return in new forms.
The author seems to hold a view that the journey of exploration is both personal and universal, reflecting the human condition and our quest for understanding.
The passage implies that the lessons and creations of the past continue to influence and challenge us, shaping our present and future.

What man may hatch from beneath the sea?

photo by author

I thought what I know was trapped inside, but no, like Prospero’s books, it will escape into the sea…

What man may hatch from beneath the deep? What mind might form when torn from a time where reason rhymes with complicity?

The wings of desire unfold in rarified air and spread on a veil you can see through, it’s so near transparency…

You travel on the pull of Mars, in the outer atmosphere, steering on toward a dawning of the same sun as it ever was, nets cast out to catch the diamond dew that feeds at dawn on the same sun we do.

I cast nets black as the knight that Arthur met on a road he’ll not soon forget, but the black knight, there’s no more fight in him, enough blood to swim in. Much of him is missing.

Here on high it’s not at all solid, spirit can’t be that, the black nets are cast at the sun’s breaking through, and dew covers it like diamonds, they cling to the sails, it’s a hell of a haul of Martian dew, more pricey than Christian Clive drop for drop, and the fragrance brings the dead alive…

It’s not for the nose, it’s for the ears, an artist appears and plays on the drum, phantoms dance into reality, home from the sea, they’ve come looking for me, assassins sent out years back return to ply the trade I taught them.

I wait on my mountain, dressed in white, invisible in the snow.