The Spider Monkey from Honduras climbs to my neck And from this vantage point surveys the world. I too, would climb the slopes and worship from a sacred mountain! I too, would be exalted by thy light, O Sun! No fifth hand, brain-tipped, have I With which to cling to roughened surfaces; With which to lift myself to cherished heights. To armfuls of haze I cling, Elevating myself above myself, into the blue. The Spider Monkey from Honduras climbs to my neck And from its lofty eminence Ha-ha's at the world. |