Jim Kacian
Allegory
Midway along my life’s journey I found myself in a dark wood, for the straightforward path had been lost. There was nothing but the arboreal gloom, not even a lake where I might confront my own image. As my eyes became adjusted, they came to rest upon the one bright spot in the gloom. Approaching it, I found it was a mushroom, Amanita virosa (I later learned), the “destroying angel,” spectrally white and magnificent. I took this image with me as I wandered out of the woods, and again as I wandered back in. Next time, I noticed Suillus cavipes, and then Cordyceps militarus, and Russula xerampelina, and on and on. Soon I noticed that Morchella deliciosa seemed to cluster beneath Liriodendron tulipifera and Quercus alba, and so the trees became available to me as well. And if there were no leopards, lions, or she-wolves to be found, there was Piranga olivacea and Sciurus carolinensis, Odocoileus virginianus and Vulpes vulpes, eventually even Gulo gulo, Ursus arctos, Puma concolor, even Lynx canadensis. In this way did I come to inhabit the woods, and thus my soul was, if not saved, at least made aware. I built my humble cottage and therein dwelt. But before long others came, with no mind to see. With rumblings and clatter they built their new Jerusalem around me, uprooting the amanitas, knocking down the acers, and chasing the piranga and vulpes away. True, there are passerines and procyons, and, late at night, I have even heard the plaints of a Strix—once. I am now lost in these streets, which too connect with everywhere and nowhere, awaiting only the key that connects them all. If I am yet that key, it seems I no longer fit the lock.
a little Latin
that doesn’t quite align —
homo sapiens
About the Author
Jim Kacian is founder and president of The Haiku Foundation as well as chairman of its board; founder and owner of Red Moon Press; and editor in chief of Haiku in English: The First Hundred Years (W. W. Norton, 2013).