Soliloquy
A sleepless night brought this forth – not one for those of the atheistic persuasion.
It is a first draft tanka (with sporadic chorus) – expect a bloodbath of editing. 🙂
(A dying man regains a little vision)
I’ve fought against you.
Overcame you many times.Â
Scoffed at your weakness.
Mocked you as you quit the fray.
But did I win? Truly win?
Were you holding back,Â
letting me win a play fight
like all fathers do?
Was I a noble rival
or bauble soul you toyed with?
Doubt’s floods assail me.
Soon we will meet face to face
with no hiding place
I will see you as you are
and myself as you see me.
In the stillnessÂ
you grow brighterÂ
a patient glowÂ
enfolding me.
My limbs grow weaker.
The light of my eyes has dimmed.
I’m dull of hearing.
The will to fight has expired
but I cannot surrender.
Resistance is vain.
I continue regardless
vindicating you
giving you satisfactionÂ
you prevailed a worthy fight.
This was not my plan
I primed myself to enter
solemn nothingness
the pitch dank forgetfulnessÂ
of an unknown soldier tomb.
In the stillnessÂ
you grow brighterÂ
a patient glowÂ
enfolding me.
Shut my book of life
blot every remembrance
cancel all charges.
I have done what I have done
nothing’s left of me to blame.
I’ve cursed my curses
hated those who hated me
I’ve kissed my lovers
suffered when they proved untrue,
there were those who loved me too.
Let’s cover the times
I wounded you in others
with discretion’s veil.
Drape my coffin with freesias
Draw the line. Bury me deep.
In the stillnessÂ
you grow brighterÂ
a patient glowÂ
enfolding me.
I cannot admitÂ
the times I called upon you
then checked, angry at
my frailty. Why should I want
my enemy’s assistance?
I wonder how, why
you kept simple faith in me?
I kept none in you.
I trod you down, hated youÂ
Scoffed, derided, denied you.
In the stillnessÂ
you grow brighterÂ
a patient glowÂ
enfolding me…
In a tiny church near here there’s a grave with a stone said to weigh ten tons covering it. It’s the grave of the “Iron King” and the words “God forgive me” are engraved on it. Your poem made me think of that. I feel an anger in this and perhaps even an arrogance? It’s very well written and thought provoking, just as I’ve come to expect from you.
I tried to put myself in the mind of a militant atheist as he begins to wonder whether he has been played like a fish all his life. In France somewhere I saw a gravestone inscribed to a beloved grandfather – I ai’t ashamed to say I misted up and hoped I migh be such un grand pere one day 🙂
Ill send a private message 🙂
why would I want to prove my existence to someone for whom i’ve arranged to grow to learn to understand to live die live again die again etc or live and die only once? or only live?
if i have arranged so that this being will indeed become perfect in every sense, it would be imperfection of my self to arrange so that the final goal is to prove I exist.
I do not matter if I am the perfect creator and knowing me is irrelevant.
this IS true love.