The Eagle’s Mile

Level

Basics I. Level Who has told you what discoveries There are, along the stressed blank Of a median line? From it, nothing Can finally fall. Like a spellbinder's pass A tense placid principle continues Over it, and when you follow you have the drift, The balance of many compass needles Verging to the pole. Bring down your arms, voyager, And the soul goes out Surrounding, humming standing by means Of the match-up in long arm-bones Dropped: held out and drawn back back in Out of the open compass-quivering and verging At your sides, as median movement Lays itself bare: a closed vein of bisected marble, where Along the hairline stem Of the continuum, you progress, trembling With the plumb-bob quiver of mid-earth, with others in joy Moving also, in line, Equalling, armlessing. 64 ...