SaintEnvious

The Rest of the Night


This darkness arises, where I seem to be fallen, and my ears in their deafening, silence the echoes
adjuring my lips of this stillborn soliloquy, my breathing abated and crouching on guard
as boldly as one now approaching my panic, the feel of the predator, menacing senselessly
the wildness of a beast ever unknown and foreign

Which way do I turn in my fearful endeavor?
One way is too near and the other too far, perhaps in my stillness I’ll seem not alive
as I play being dead with my fate as my gambit, and so death may pass over and turn far away
In this darkness I’ve shrunk to the heart of my shadow, yet I come to be lost in the other ones frame


Where my gaping eyes seek what my fear would reveal,
“This one is the one that I killed on my path, this one is the one that has died at my hand.”

Above and beyond me, its coal eyes fixed frozen, its fur sleekly muscled and trailing its tail
in the grandeur of a gracefulness bourne on the limb
It is squirrel,
now returned

but not merely so,
it is more so than that
and in all of its presence, in all its intent,
in all of its purpose, it is real and immediate
and its realness embodies its being here
holding me captive and still
in the place of my dread

as I drop my own gaze while its eye is upon me, I fall within reach where escape is not able
then coming to bear on the rolling expanse, and closing upon me from all sides together
a voice comes to speak from the endless horizon and move through the blood of my veins in its coursing

“Here I am. Now, come and get me.”

my cheeks are exposed to the color of shame, and their distance is found as I face once again
the sound of the word of the voice of the one,

“Do you know who you are?”

My thoughts come upon me and race to the fore “This is my chance! I’ll explain myself fully!”
When my nerve finds its opening, my words rush to speak,

“Cheet, chee-eet, ticka-ticka-ticka, chee-eet!”

I shut up my mouth,
I am stunned into silence,
this outburst of mine is untenably base
I wait for response in my humiliation, when the voice speaks again, with its timbre serene

“So it is, as you say. So it is with questions and answers.”

It reaches out to me as my instinct recoils and I ball up grasping and helplessly fetal
I am lifted, my back is now armored and scaling, the shell of a scab wounded impervious
I am hefted and palmed, with the feel of the claws scratching over my hardening surface.

“Beware of the answers you find, as they bloom upon the branch, they flower fascination
but answers know only hunger, answers need only their own feeding
and once they are fed, they fade and they fall before the passing of the wind.”

“You are better staying close to Me, close beneath this question posed,
this branch of the question, ungainly and coarse,
but this branch is the span of the roots in their breadth.
The branch of the question is the source, the quest facing you is your sole provision.”

The silence allowed for the settling of words.

“Do you know what one such as Me does with one such as you?”

My heart in its hammering upon my taut skin, pressed the oil of fear from beneath my thin shell

“I only consume what is necessary.
What I lift up and gather, I bury to the earth.
You may observe I gather much, I consume as well and yet I seem forgetful.
What I have buried I forget of its place and it is left on its own and growing.
Did you know that I plant that which grows?
In all that grows, My hand has planted.”

I am tossed and jostled and turned over again in His grasp.

“Do you think it odd that I would plant and forget?
Do you think one such as I am foolish? Do you think Me a fool?”

I am held aloft at length and precarious, teetering far above and beyond.

“If I were to plant you in the earth, what would be your hope?
Would you hope that I forget you and leave you on your own?
Would you hope that I return to find you where you lie?”

With this I am let loose and falling,
I am tossed end over face where I land and hit turning
and roll again over to rest where I’m left,
half uncovered between all the leavings and brushes.
Here and close beside, the ground is torn up,
great handfuls are ripped as the tangled roots snap
and the One calmly digs while His voice is now soothing,

“Do not hide yourself in fear, do not become troubled.
I will leave you to your way, you are free to create as you see fit,
and you are free to destroy as you so choose,
You may return to making your pancakes,
whether of the usual variety
or otherwise.”

The ground opened a chasm before me I am carefully lifted and placed in its nadir.

“Remember this, wee creator, you too have been made, and you will be consumed.
There is hunger; there is a feast, and you are made and prepared as such.”

The earth was dropped into place upon me to cover completely all I could see,
while the ground was gently patted smooth and the voice released its claim on my ears,

“Sleep well, creator, draw near to your rest.”

I stared into nothingness,
unmoved and immobile. I lay there interred, buried whole and concealed
as time wore on far above my lone placement,
the moments now passed into years,
while the years became passed into ages,
and the ages were passed to oblivion.

I was left to remain beyond all that was mine.
All I knew passed before my thoughts and left me.
All whom I loved passed before my care and were lost.
All I endeavored passed beyond my reach and was done.

Everyone I have known is gone.
Everyone who has known me
is no more.
I am beyond reach.
I am removed,
beyond all eyes,
beyond all notice.


there are clouds far above
far beyond and away
giving forth their conveyance, the falling of rain
and the rains falling free are received without cause
through my eyes tightly closed now the raindrops are passed
and the teardrops that flow on the path I have left
I am done in my seeking, I am done being sought,
I am done and beyond
all the ending of such

In this filtering water, I am soaking wet ruined;
This shell was once hard and now split to its parts.
I have become broken.
This is now who I am -
I am broken

and my way
is the way of brokeness.
And my lips
are the lips unheard from
and my light
is the silence of darkness.

“...forget me now...remember me when...forget me now...remember me when...”

Emergence out reaches the close of the shell
where the tenderest shoot moves the whole earth before it,
even through my denial, yet I reach as I yearn
and the stripling takes roots to the earth it forsook.

“Forget me now as I am
– this broken shell soiled and hiding --
but recall me to light
and remember this wholeness --
the lightness of humbled exhaustion, exalted.

Behold,
I am nameless
I am made again
and I know without knowing

I am a tree.

This only I know;

– I am tree --

and the gathering has turned me in this
and the gathering One shall see fit to return
to this planting, His bough,

and this bough shall be made
to find rest in His sight,
in this gathering place
and this place shall be His,
my humble abode.”

__________________
The body is a season,
the mind, a timepiece
and the spirit, a cloud passing.

Unpretty Girl

wow... that is a long, long poem. I liked it, even though it just seemed like a story to me. But than again, Dr. Suess (I can never spell his name correctly *sigh*) was just writing poems that turned into stories. Great job!
~Unpretty