A deep thing blazons toward its name to find relief, And cold, in a mythic way, it moves through dark, As if it knew that darkness has a bad name all in vain, That a deep thing plunges in a deepened way toward light, The way plankton move in darkness through the
polyped deep, The way a climber, on the dark side of a peak, moves first Through caves, ravines, encampments of the shade; the way The early hurts, in dark, release the rectifying urge That sets the words to song to speak its name.