Recognition

The Old One sat grounded,
His back against a silver ladder
That towered to the stars.

Looking up at me, he said:
“I know who you are, Samael…”
He paused...

He asked:
“Do you know whom I am, as well?”

I looked up from him to the tower soaring.
Its fading end seemed bound tight
Between bright Venus and dull Mars,
The twin powers of the night.

“No, Old One,” shaking my head,
“I know not who you were, may be, or are.”

He nodded...

He asked:
“What DO you know, O Samael?”

In a roaring,
I thought:
If that is Heaven, I’m in hell.

I looked down again into his
Deep and infinite eyes,
Darker than midwinter skies
And deeper than Tantalus’s well.

“Old One, about you, 
I can only guess,
And of you, I can only know…”

I looked up again at 
Venus cool and Mars hot.

“Go on, he urged. “Yes?”

“All I can truly know is; 
What you are not.”