75: Pledge

When your house is gone your husband gone your children wife and home are gone your pets are gone your job is gone your bank and streets and bars are gone your breath is gone your blood is gone your brain and words and name are gone your shoes and socks and pants are gone your mountains lakes and geese are gone your place is gone your thread is gone your mark your trace your tread is gone your pledge is gone your pitch is gone your foam your crust your sheen is gone your grain is gone your shade is gone your hue and glint and mood are gone Your tab is gone your plate is gone your empties drags and remnants gone your churches gone your temples gone your mosques and mirrored halls are gone your hair is gone your muscle gone your tone your laugh your glance is gone your home is gone your husband gone your children wife and town are gone When all of this and more is finally gone when everything that once illuminated the world with its presence has been swallowed into the void and the black hole that irrevocably extinguishes everything that once radiated belonging, presence and certainty has seemingly expanded beyond the horizon of hope remember - if that ember glimmers still one thing in the face of all this remains: The persistent and enduring state of loss. ----------------------------------------- I have a room you can back in to to see a not-very-big-thing. That thing is Dr Wisdom: pocket sized, smells good, big smile. Dr Wisdom presses the button to auto generate the sayings for the day. Today’s nuggets: It’s sure nice to have a big grin, and Fruiting diamonds, no mouse. No mouse, fruiting diamonds. “Any legs in the above?”, he chirped at me. “I could take them for a walk outside?”, I offered. He smiled and nodded, though his head did not rise to make the nod a full one. Ah, a half one, I thought watching the strands of drool begin to stretch to his Y-fronts. “Strands.” he mumbled I had spent some time umming and ahing in front of the vertical sheet of existence for twenty minutes or so, holding Dr Wisdom’s offerings in my palm. The sheet rippled slightly, a breath shimmering a still sea. My presence felt, my hesitancy questioned, I stepped forwards as though to rest against it and began to stretch along its whole surface, absorbed to surge throughout its depths. It was cold ham for dinner. I left Dr Wisdom’s in his drenched lap. No doubt the saliva would dissolve it a little making it easier to consume whenever that time circled around again.