And I have my entry ready for camper apps. (just need to tweak it a bit and off it goes! Wheeee)
I did drop her along the line
That thin jagged breathless white line
That stretched further than the sky
I’m not sure how, but I had let go
And went ahead on that cold hard white line
I traced my steps, word for word
And lo and behold! Curled in a ball
Her hair strangling her ears and eyes
She could not see me, sniffling quietly
On this white pale cold line that we tread upon
I called her by her name, “Tipy Lohe, Tipy Lohe!”
“I left you behind, but I’ve come to take you home.”
“Please forgive me and get up on your feet”
“And walk with me on this white crooked line”
I said to her as compassionate as a soul
She heard me with her suffocating ears
The wind sweeping at her ankles, her dress blue
She shook her head in anger and the sky grew dark
Darker than the first darkness in which God was born
And colder than the tip of the new moon
“I’m here to die,” Piteously she wept, “Abandoned,
“lost in my grief since I have been betrayed.”
“Trust you, I cannot. Since you walked away without
“me on that endless broken white line.”
“be rational child,” sternly I spoke
“tis a long line that few are free of,
“I have made a mistake and lo, I admit that
“but don’t be so foolish”
“will you do it again?” Tipy Lohe cried
those tear staining her blue dress in blotches
“perhaps,” I said, “since it is a dark day we walk in
“and that is a cold harsh broken line”
She took my hand and I swear there was no smile
There is no end to this journey, though I
See the clouds breaking for angels ahead
Like bread cracked for supper, Tipy Lohe and me
Must count blessings on this broken lonely white line
And salvation is a minute away.
Creation is Black
On that twisting, turning, choking, churning sea of black
Rose a jewel bright, brightest thing the sea has seen
The taste was foul so it was spat out in disgust
And it hovered above the sea, taunting it with beauty
That churning, curling, spurning, turning sea of black
Enraged, it whipped its wings to crush that jewel.
But the jewel was too far away for it to reach and again
The jewel sang, praising its beauty in preached vanity.
Then, on that smashing, crashing, spinning, twisting sea of black
Came little pieces of bread that floated on its back. The sea recoiled,
Trying to take off its restraints. But the bread was fixed as roots grew
Every night it heard the song of the vain jewel.
Out of those deep, dark, cold, empty depths rose more bread
And there were little beings of light that stood outside the sea of black’s
Reach, always sitting with elbows on knees, listening to the song of the
Vain jewel. And the sea kept on screaming, wailing, howling and calling
Then, the jewel began to spin, faster, much faster than the sea of black.
And its light began to creep upon the creatures and their homes. That light
Covered the sea of black and began to choke it. It began yelling, crying,
screaming and begging, but not once did the light let it go.
And lo! The darkness has vanished, gone to find a better host for its blackness.
The sea mourned their loss and submerged itself in its blue-tinted sorrow.
The creatures of light had lost their glow to the jewel and now feared to look
Beyond its gaze. And when the jewel sang, they closed their ears and slept.
Your eyes are open and you sit up straight.
You seem to have this idea that the sky fell on your head in the night because they are still ringing from the impact of clouds and rain.
But when you look out your window, you see decimated buildings lined up
for a captain in the military and you wondered whether you fell out
of your world in accident. You think about it and then get out your cloak
and walk out your door. The first thing you see is a pile of indistinguishable
rubble by your door (and you believe it might be the remains of
your neighbours’ house) and you walk down. There is not even a soul on the
street and you are even more convinced that this was an alternate reality
and any minute now you would grow red horns and green ears.
But you have nothing on your head and your ears aren’t green, so you walk on.
In the centre of this hollowed out city was a pool of water that was covered with white feathers. You wonder why (of all things in the city really) was this left intact, so you step into the white mesh and you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper until you can’t see the sun anymore and breathing was of no consequence.
And you wake up and it’s a beautiful day.
There was a garden I knew by name. We called her each day and she echoed our love back at us. Then we would walk over her back and she would play with our scuffy hair. And before the black had touched the tip of blue, we went home and she wailed piteously.
There was a war and some fool dropped a bombshell on her. They hollowed out her heart and dug up her nails. There was no more beauty left in her and her voice had left us. We went home, and the blue had not even kissed the black above yet.
Sometimes, I believe that I remember her name, but it’s beyond me now. In my moment of harmony (which I lost as a child so long ago), I think I will remember. And then I will forget again.
crossposted at <lj user="mukashi2> GET THIS SONG OUT OF MY HEAD!!!!!