Song of Life, Song of Death: Final edits both

[RiverNotch]

The waters are warm, so I jump in. Two poems in one post, partly so I won't seem too redundant: the first, I already posted in Miscellaneous, and two of its parts, I've already posted here, too; but mostly because I consider them to be essentially of the same story, and I hope that's rather obvious.


SONG OF LIFE

1 - The Comet
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 out of the void, like the tail of a comet chasing after a star.

2 - The Creation
And 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, finding refuge in the dreams of man: she remained a virgin, with perfect youth and beauty.

The second was formed by the word of God 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 by the hands of God 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 and woman died toiling, as they became bearers of wisdom.

3 - Night
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.

4 - Morning Light
Crowned bird, crow! Call forth the sun!
And sceptered moon, sweet silver moon,
see the world waking? Your time to rest!
Return home to your chamber in the ocean:
light a fire, enjoy your dinner,

and don't forget to feed your fish,
leviathan and your fellow stars.
Then, when your brother rises high,
sleep, moon! Let him rule. How the waking world
waits for the music of your dreams--

The waking world, the sensual world:
where is the winter? where is the night?
In this golden light, I am free
to walk, to sail, to fly through this garden,
and feel for the face of spring.

5 - Wandering Dreams
Under the shade of the old oak tree,
we were gathering flowers, you and I,
hyacinths blood-red and the marble lotus,
when we were made one. And the serpent,

whose eyes dreamed of ocean, filled our throats with song:
but our tears were true -- our tears, clear and formless,
altering no earthly colors -- and our love was pure --
our love, the drifting scent, the passive cry,

the questions and answers united, mounting high
over hill and mountain. But our mother
still burned white-hot with anger, when she saw
our pale and perfect bodies breeched with wine

and shards of glass: with blood-red petals, leaves of grass.
Foolish wrath: were we not freed to love?
Foolish children: so we were, but with time
comes movement: summer, autumn, and the cold again.

Even before death, there was already thirst:
where we went for peace, far from the prying eyes
of the beasts and the beetles, behemoth's song
found its purpose. In the quiet heart of the garden

stood alone the pomegranate tree,
bending low with its fruit. And as the leaves fell
and the summer wept, its blood-red seeds were sown
deep into your flesh, then watered with ocean.

6 - Afternoon Rain
"Whispering wind, listening wind,
what could compare to the loss of my love?"
"The loss of a son", he says. "Your mother
burned with an even hotter fever,
when you left." And an eagle flies overhead.

Dewdrops fall from the clouds,
and father's eyes twinkle like the stars--
they are the stars. But for whom does he weep,
I wonder? Meanwhile, the sparrow's song
grows soft, as the gold turns to ash.

And from a whisper to a whirlwind,
from a drizzle to a rainstorm, he continues:
"With this grief, we could be doves again.
We are destroyed by love, like the flower
bearing fruit. Now listen to our songs!"

7 - The Judge
When man lost his arm, his father was reborn,
his father the wise and watchful god,
and when his father rejoined the heavens, the instrument returned,
fully formed: from the blood-red seed of the pomegranate tree
to the trunk of the tree of life,
the old oak tree.

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 fish, the fowl, the flowers,
the trees, the beetles, the serpents--
and the spirit flies over the face of the waters,
returning to God the breath of life,
as the soul is lost unto the hands of the multitude...

Only comfort. Man lost his arm three times.
On the first, he lost his way,
but he found his freedom.
On the second, he lost his home,
but he received his love.
On the third, he lost his life,
but he bore the multitude...

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

8 - 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, iron and nitrogen,
of water, earth, 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 their father
by calling forth the comet.

9 - The Waters of Death
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 the waters swelled and swelled, so that all the surface of the earth was covered, even the tops of the mountains, and all the spaces of the heavens were flooded, even the seats of the stars, and all the beasts of the earth were drowned, even the fish and the fowl: and the bodies of all living things floated on the face of the waters, then blackened and bloated with rot, then sank again into the seas, and upon the wet earth, and even unto the waters beneath the earth: and all the world was rendered formless and void...

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 out of the void, 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 creatures 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 Wanderer
We were gathering flowers, you and I, 
when we were made one, under the shade 
of the pomegranate tree. And the snake 
tempted us with song: but our tears were true.

Then mother burned with anger, when she saw 
our pale and perfect bodies breeched in wine. 
But as we licked our lips, the serpent's blood 
filled our throats with song: and we left the garden. 

With our love — the drifting scent, the passive cry,
the questions and answers united, mounting high —
we banished all our memories of night, of my bed. 
There was only us: no man and woman, only us.

And father only watched us, when we left,
when our love released the ocean, when the beast,
the leviathan of experience, climbed up the deep
and consumed my arm, your body: our oneness.

"Nothing compares to this loss", I tell him.
"No, there is a greater", he says. "Your mother
burned with fever, not with anger, when you left."
Then his drops of dew, and his eyes twinkle like stars.

But what made him so mercilessly distant, that he shut
from us his light and warmth, his warnings then?
The folly of old age: the vengeful soul
of the crooked boy returning? Or extended weeping:

tears for my mother, tears for the future,
the dumbness of misery? Here he speaks.
"You were destroyed by love, as the flower
bears its fruit. Now listen, cuckoo, to your songs."

5 – The Judge
When man lost his arm, his father was reborn, 
his father the boy with twinkling eyes,
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...

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.

6 – 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, iron and nitrogen,
of water, earth, 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.

7 – 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 the waters swelled and swelled, so that all the surface of the earth was covered, even the tops of the mountains, and all the spaces of the heavens were flooded, even the seats of the stars, and all the beasts of the earth 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 the world was rendered formless and void...

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 out of the void, 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 creatures 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 Wanderer
We were gathering flowers, you and I,
when we were made one, under the shade
of the pomegranate tree. And the snake
tempted us with song: but our blows were true.

Then mother burned with anger, when she saw
our pale and perfect bodies breeched in wine.
But as we licked our lips, the serpent's blood
filled our throats with song: and we left the garden.

With our love – the drifting scent, the passive cry,
the questions and answers united, mounting high –
we banished all our memories of night, of my bed.
There was only us: no man and woman, only us.

But father only watched, when we left,
when our love released the ocean, when you died,
like a flower bearing fruit, destroyed by love,
drowned in the waters, eaten by the whale.

Our cuckoo songs could not compare to his voice,
his soft but clear commanding voice, the morning sun.
But what made him so mercilessly distant, that he shut
his light and his warmth, his words of wisdom from us?

Never again complete, the warrior and the poet,
in just one man, in just one woman. But the answer:
all our lives, we've been gathering flowers,
you and I. And his eyes twinkle like stars.

5 – The Judge
When man lost his arm, his father was reborn, 
his father the babe with twinkling eyes,
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.

Vanity of vanities! All is vanity– 
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...

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.

6 – 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, iron and nitrogen,
of water, earth, 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.

7 – 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 the waters swelled and swelled, so that all the surface of the earth was covered, even the tops of the mountains, and all the spaces of the heavens were flooded, even the seats of the stars, and all the beasts of the earth 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 the world was rendered formless and void...

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 out of the void, 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 creatures 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...

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, iron and nitrogen,
of water, earth, 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 the waters swelled and swelled, so that all the surface of the earth was covered, even the tops of the mountains, and all the spaces of the heavens were flooded, even the seats of the stars, and all the beasts of the earth 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 the world was rendered formless and void...


THE TWO REALMS (Prospective middle section of the "Song of Life")

1 - The Wanderer

You were gathering flowers, hyacinths blood-red,
when I, released from the dreaming, received you.
And under the shade of the pomegranate tree, we were made one.
My mother burned with anger; my father only watched.

There was no past, there was no future: only the present,
incomplete, bound to the law. What did they matter?
Now, as we lie here, upon the white drifts of our bed,
there is only us -- no man, no woman. But I admit:

I did not see you when I dreamed of love. Her hair was red, 
like the dawn, like the flowers in your basket, and her eyes
were green, like summer grass. But she was a relic of the night,
while you are real: the sex, the drifting scent, the passive cry,
the questions and answers united, mounting high--

Now, what adventures do we have, on these melting plains
of morning sun? I even lose an arm, ha! to a whale:
but what's an arm to the thousand? And as I rest here, my stump bound
to stop the bleeding, what else can I do, as the spring runs its fever?
Cuckoo, sing! Here comes the summer, another round of flowers.

2 - The Poet

Nothing can compare
to the loss of a beloved,
I tell my father.
His reply: no,
there is a greater. The loss of a son.

It's his weeping, I think,
for my mother -- she burned with fever,
not with anger when we left -- but he shed
no tears, no drops of dew, after the funeral.

It could be the folly of old age,
the vengerful soul of the crooked boy
who never truly left: but my father became a prophet,
not a pantaloon, as he aged,

and his eyes still twinkle like stars.
How different are we, my father and I:
he is quiet, patient, ever watchful,
while I act as if there is no tomorrow.

But his voice is the more commanding,
however soft: with his word,
he made the world,
while what do my songs here bear?

Only vanities. My father only watched
as my beloved died, carrying all our labours.
She was destroyed by love, like a flower bearing seed,
but the fruit is sweet: and my son
has green eyes, twinkling like stars.

SONG OF DEATH

So, the world is round!
It has its ups and downs--
A water-wheel
Guided by the Miller and His Son,
Begotten One.

Round and round the circle goes
With the river's flow,
And how the gears and axles spin,
Guide the milling stone
Grinding corn.

Soon, the spokes break down,
As mold and age corrupt the round--
A brief command!
So arrives the Son
To pull us out.

Then, to each, a place is given:
Either the oven
To cook the family's meal of bread
Or the central hearth
To give them warmth.