Song of Life

[Mark A Becker]

Hello R'Notch--

An interesting piece, and a good enough story.

Enough so that I ask, "Why not move it to the SERIOUS part of the pen?" When so moved, though, please leave off the lengthy (and unnecessary) intro.

Consider the toe dipped, and dive in....
Seriously,
... Mark

I've been playing around with mashing up hearts of glass to make better spectacles for myself, for I am blind and full of gas, but I'm never wont to release them because their nature automatically makes about 69% of them faeces. This, I have not had much comment from anyone, except for two of the four individual pains in the ass (I hope it is obvious, but three of these parts are from one still unreleased whole), and I think it's about time I tested for methane in my farts -- plus, but on these matters I am usually wrong for about (again) 69% of the time, I think this is pretty good, if only because this gelled surprisingly well, thematically and narratively, considering the completely different origins of all four poems. But mistake not this little exegesis for a call to serious comment (though, if it pleases you, then you are slightly more than welcome) -- this'll be for such when you say you desire so, I am convinced, and I have this moved to "Serious Workshop". For now, the toe dips, and hopes the body's being given a good swim by the elements.


SONG OF LIFE

1 – Prologue
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth: as his spirit hovered over the face of the waters, he said, "Let there be light", and there was light; and all the rest of the world followed, like the tail of a comet chasing after a star.

2 – The Schoolboy
The air is always flat this time of night,
flat and cold and quiet, like the lake outside
in wintertime. I slow my breathing down:
I don't want to break the ice.

When I go to bed, I never shut my light,
a sun lamp. Why does no one let me walk outside?
There, the twisted trunks of oak never shift,
unlike the shadows of my bed.

Like the shadows of my bed, the wilderness at night
is home to demons fanged and clawed; but outside,
at least, the horrors are familiar, real and steady
in their motives, while my bed-sheets
shelter only water.

I've been swallowed whole before. I remember light,
cold moonlight, crashing through the winter ice outside,
filling my lungs, choking me, washing away my steady,
never failing faith. Then, I was pulled up
by the rooster's crow.

3 – The Passionate Youth
From the waters and the earth God created man, forming him with his own hands, in his own image: and he breathed in him the Breath of Life, and he blessed him with the Garden of Paradise, and he gave him his Word. Then the LORD God made three women.

The first was formed by the Word of God from the light, and she was the true companion of man; her name was Desire. But Adam saw her creation in his waking: and he found Disgust in her flesh, and Disease in her blood, and Destruction in her bones: and he scorned her. And she left the garden in Despair, and she found refuge in the Dreams of man; she was a Virgin, with perfect youth and beauty.

The second was formed from every inch of flesh and blood and bone of Adam as he slept, and her name was Lilith. She saw herself as the true equal of man: but God knew that she could not cover him to receive his seed, so he exiled her from the garden. And she became the Mother of the Lilin, the demons of the night.

The third was formed from the rib of Adam as he slept, and she was named Eve. And man and woman left the garden together, after they ate of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil; and man died toiling, as woman grew old, becoming a Bearer of Wisdom.

4 – The Justice
When Man lost his arm, his father was reborn,
his father the sinner, the crooked
boy: and when his father rejoined the heavens, the instrument returned,
fully grown: from the blood-red seed of the pomegranate tree
to the trunk of the tree of life.

There are no questions to be asked;
there are no answers to be given.
Death flies at the face of life,
as the body returns to the waters and the earth,
feeding the woods, the wolves, the carrion
beetles, the fish, the fowl–
and the spirit flies over the face of the waters,
returning to God the breath of life,
as the soul falls into the hands of the multitude...

There is only comfort. Man lost his arm three times.
On the first, he lost his way,
but he became a king.
On the second, he lost his home,
but he received his love.
On the third, he lost his father,
but he saved the multitude...

Be still: here she comes, walking down the milky way.

5 – The Prophet
Today, my navel outshines me,
for today, it is a dying star
huffing its desperate last breath.

The immense pressure of gravity's hands
ever-squeezing its fiery core
at last compounds its every facet
into a heavy hole in time.

Its shell of gas and light erupts
into a splendid rainbow of dust,
of carbon and oxygen and iron and nitrogen,
of water and earth and wind and flame,
of all the material elements.

And this great cloud of stardust scatters
beyond the world of my humble body,
beyond the womb of mother earth,
beyond the weirs across the heavens,
to create a brilliant legacy for its father
by calling forth the comet.

6 – Epilogue
And the Word of God released the waters above and the waters below. For many days and many nights the windows of the heavens were opened, and the fountains of the earth overflowed; and the waters of death mingled with the waters of life: and all the surface of the earth was covered, even the tops of the mountains, and all the space of the heavens was flooded, even the seats of the stars, and all the beasts of the world were drowned, even the fish and the fowl; and their bodies floated on the face of the waters, then blackened and bloated with rot, then sank again into the seas, upon the wet earth, and even unto the waters beneath the earth: and all were rendered formless and void...