1
When we descended into Lower
Cave
Climbing down set steel ladders
The world above us had no meaning
left
Other than family and friends
there.
Sprawling away from us into darkness
Our lights couldn’t touch the
edges
Of cave passages that connected
Like small roots into the main cave.
Earth above seemed to be no more
Than a shadow of the true world
below.
2
More stalactites and stalagmites
are here
Than our thoughts that flash
out and back
As we think about how this cave
Created itself from below us
to above.
If it had broken through the
rock surface
Would it have continued to
build itself,
Cave walls and formations forming
From the winds’ dust and dirt?
3
Not easy to comprehend, how
these caves
Built themselves from beneath
to above us,
Sulphuric acid accomplishing
what water carves out
In other limestone caves
and gypsum caves.
To stand in the midst of
an immense passage
And not be able to even
imagine how distant
Its walls are away from
us nor how deep
This cave cascades down
through the earth
From cliff-top to beneath
dry streambed.
This challenge to our
human ability to know,
Comprehend the majesty,
and understand the
mystery
Of millions of years
marks the evolution
of our minds—
We stand in darkness
far behind the twilight
zone.
Be the salamander
Herpetologists drawn attention
to the countenance
Of the tiger salamander: always a
constant grin
On every salamander’s face, and
explain it as no more
Than the expression of anatomical
structure.
But we cavers know better: we’ve
watched them
Swaying away from us beneath a
stone shelf
Barely wide enough to cover them—or
almost
All of them but the tips of their
tails—
And we know that grin is lifelong
on the faces
Of The Masters of All Caves,
rulers of the grottoes
Who never begrudge invaders—graceful
bats
Or fumbling cavers dressed in
mud—
Access to their wonderlands beneath
the world.
So caver, when you come here,
honor them,
These short, squat, muscled
masters of the caves.
Leave your discontents and
agonies on the surface
And grow a salamander grin
on your face.
Roswell Gykap terrain
1
Hardly a hill around here
Yet sinkholes tumble down
Leading to gypsum caves
That wander beneath
Sparse grass that calves
Must feed on for five years
Before they’re slaughtered.
Down in the caves water and
mud
Chill the cavers
who survey,
Measure and map gypsum
caves
Rising in dome rooms
beneath ridges,
Falling in stream
passages that wind
From under one hill
to the next.
Linestone cavers
have it easy;
We gyp cavers crawl
and dig
And look hard for
every beauty
Our sparsely decorated
caves
Give us—but hard-won
beauty
Is a diamond polished
by
Nothing less than
The Unknown.
2
Here stone is white
beneath sparse
grasses,
Cactus, and the
occasional red
cedar
That serves as
the only tree
anywhere close.
3
Parallel lines,
this horizon,
this road,
This flight
of bats towards
food.
Esteban Beleu
November 28, 2006
“Something Huge With a Strong Stench”
1
An echo rebounding off a sandstone cliff
Startles the nested birds after midnight
That fall out and scatter from their perches
Over the closest ridge like sparks of fire.
It comes again but by now the last deer
Have leapt far distant from the thin creek
And everything else shudders in its burrow
And doesn’t see It walking thorough shallow water,
Long arms dangling down by its knees,
Eyes reflecting the crescent moon’s scant light.
30 seconds pass and already It’s distant,
Moving to its hunting grounds to kill and feed
And return to Its den before early dawn.
2
On the other side of the thick pine trees
A stench is moving worse than any animal’s,
Worse than any human’s or anything we know,
Silently along the lush creek bottom.
We stand still and quiet and watch
But It senses us close by and turning
Strides away from us more quickly
Than we can run after and maybe see It.
When we believe we may be close
Suddenly every sound stops and It’s gone
And the forest seems empty and alone
But we feel and know we’re being watched.
3
We will not find Its den, discover Its lair.
Few humans have even seen Its tracks,
Not even Indians who lived here not without
But within nature who only rarely heard
And more rarely saw It—so what hope
For we who live in towns, far from nature,
Believing that science can understand
Every mystery that exists.
4
As we wander through the valleys
Between densely-treed hogbacks
The forest becomes silent as we pass
But after we’re distant is alive again
With birdsong, squirrel barking—and shrieks
High-pitched, shrill, almost but not human.
Dark comes onto us; we decide to leave
And know we will never return here again
And force ourselves to forget those shrieks.
5
Underneath the dogwood you sit and rest,
Humidity thick as bark on your neck and face.
Nothing moves in this early morning fog,
Even birds awake in their nests are silent.
You yawn and your eyes begin to close,
Exhausted from a useless night of tracking
Stray footprints 8 inches across the toes
That disappear back into streams again.
Dream begins to intrude on day, your head
Touches your chest…then you’re aware
Suddenly that a huge shadow strides
Just beneath you where no shadow could be
In this fog dense as a cliff, and now your nose
Sickens at a stench you don’t recognize
As human or animal, and you sit quietly
Until the mid-morning sun burns the fog off
And your heartbeat is once again healthy
And you’re not afraid to climb up and out
Out of the hollow tree you’ve hidden in,
Afraid that the shadow might return, or worse,
That you would stand up and behind you
That shadow would swoop out of nowhere,
Clasp you in darkness, and take you, broken,
Down into the lair of the unknown.
6
“ When we found him none of us could tell
What had happened. He must have wandered
Days in that deep forest—no trail’s there,
None at all, but only these creeks that
Animals use to travel in and out to hunt,
Kill, feed, and return to their dens
Hidden in sandstone cliffs and caves.
Look at this eyes—something scared him.
His pupils are still dilated; his mouth, open.
Maybe he screamed, but maybe he couldn’t.
Cause of Death: Heart attack. Reasons: unknown.”
© Steve Beleu, January 18,
2006
1609 East Boyd St.
Norman, OK 73071
405-364-0610
sbeleu@oltn.odl.state.ok.us
Steve Beleu,
