IN THE TEMPLE OF MY SEIZURE

 

 

“I would keep the seizures because of the way I see the world falling into place.”

            -epilepsy patient interviewed by the BBC

 

I have captured God in a net

of neurons firing in sequence. He is 

luminous and silent as snow, drifting

in moonlit waves to the horizon.

 

I have created God in my image,

sent Him out on a wire taped to

my temple, to appear among

the peaks and valleys of the EEG.

 

Here is God, in the meadow, the

bone cold spring air.  He has set the

moon in its orbit over Mt. Princeton, and

placed the wild sage near the fire pit.

 

Blue sparks leap the synaptic breach,

there is order in this storm.  I know how this

will end:  a current runs through my body, 

I have been here before, I am wired

 

for this, thin filaments of spider’s

silk webbing my temporal lobe,

the seat of consciousness,

the Throne of God.