Once upon a time there was a sphere
floating and spinning in the blackest of nights.
On this sphere lived a people whose need to survive depended on a translucent potion which fell from their skies and only their skies .
They also required a rare combination of minerals and vitamins which they could consume from strange creatures which also inhabited this round rock. Some of these creatures even became loyal to them and lived alongside them like family.
These people had an amazing superpower which allowed them to thrive above all creatures and create special crafts that could fly high high and others which could go deep under the translucent basins which dotted their world.
They made special portals which could link their minds over huge spaces and meant that no matter where they went they could speak to whoever they wished.
They could make amazing sounds come out of apparatuses which they fashioned from elements around them. And often they would move involuntarily to these sounds.
Every piece of these people was intricately made and seemed to function as if by …..
“Magic ? Was it magic mother ?”
Of course it was magic my love but the strangest thing about it all is that most of them didn’t believe.
I asked myself for the hundredth time
What will I do ? What will I do ?
Should I ? Could I ? May I ?
I looked to you for a pat on the head
Each nod another nail in my scaffolding.
Each an apparent strengthening of a weak structure underneath.
I was under the illusion that you kept me up.
But meanwhile a quiet hand was busy inside
Putting cement in the cracks
Strengthening the original.
A soft whisper reminding me that once I stood alone.
No outside work necessary to hold my bones.
Little by little I dismantled your hold
The nails weren’t even fully in.
The wood you used was weak
The metal bars prone to leaks.
So when you fell, I didn’t fall
I had no need for an outer wall
The stone and rock that made me… me
Had been enough but I didn’t see
I looked to others for so much approval
Yet was strong enough after their removal
The walls I had were strong not frail
Without the input of your nails.
“I think God is the first person who died”
That’s what my seven year old said as he we played together.
Wow. Wow. Wow.
I had never considered that.
Also I had never considered the very first person who died.
Where was their heaven if one believes in such things ?
Who greeted them in that tunnel of light ?
No prophet yet born. No lamb of God shorn.
Was it the Devil ?
That doesn’t seem fair.
Sent to his lair.
Or hers. For just being first.
Man or woman ? Was it Adam or Eve?
Whatever you believe. Somebody was the first to go.
The first to leave.
Before all the fuss of what to follow
Makes it all seem hollow.
Dare I say silly ?
Dare I ?
I’ll find my way gently through this life
I’ve learned not to erode the rocks I face
That can be another river’s war.
I will meander and find the easier way
Where are my balls you say ?
They’re floating. They’re floating.
I cannot be the sea.
It’s just not me.
I cannot command the force of a thousand leagues
When I am sourced from a puddle.
It’s not a bad thing.
I feed the birds not the herds.
The smaller folk can paddle their feet
While others bomb their way into deeper days
I will burble and gurgle and make the day sound better.
So take a sip. A little dip.
But If you require complete annihilation
I’m not the one for your libation.
There is a pulsing in the hearth again
That breathes life into the most mundane of things
A child wrapped in a towel
A cat splayed out in the sun
The thud of it all
The pinch of spice into my cauldron
Is all alive with the promise
That day after day after day
It might end the same way
And that my longing for things wild and free
Is right here with me.
They made a choice
The forbidden fruit of the loins
Started the clock ticking on their own immortality
Energy is neither created or destroyed but transformed.
Slowly the growing of another human
Was inversely proportional to their own longevity
Perhaps they never had a choice
That urge to touch is greater than the will to live forever
Eden was growth and enough for two
Love and its human display
Was consuming. Consumption.
But that’s not evil.
There was no devil in our making.
Just change. Just an natural inclination to bloom.
Let us stop searching for their garden
It was fleeting.
Let us grow our own.
As Adam farmed so must we.
For every child a tree
Or two , or three.
Grow our own humans.
Grow our own Eden.
I used to melt
I was puddle to your shining light
Now I all I see is the sun bouncing off your head
Your mysterious smile
Was just a sneer.
How strange !
How my heart deceived me.
I used to feel.
I think my brain vibrated to every beat of your heart
When I must have believed you had one.
Now it’s just static.
But what a delight. What a delicious relief
My body moves to its own beat, its own heat.
Now if I fall it’s only for a real rock. Not a stone.