A Strange Tale

But Not Unusual

This is one of those poems of which the poet wonders whether it will make any sense to any other readers.

Because of that, I’ve delayed posting it, but having now made a few minor changes to (hopefully) clarify it a little and improve its flow, here it is…

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The Prophets and the Earth

All men, they are fools,
And the women no better;
The swear by the book,
And they break every letter.

They have not enough soul
to be saved from the fire,
and even the devil
shall find them a liar.

The prophets have spoken,
one after another,
have given one rule:
love each as a brother.

God only knows why
they have found this so hard,
despite all their prophets,
their saints, and their bards.

I asked of the rocks,
and the rocks they were weary;
I asked of the hawks;
they fled each to his eyrie.

I asked of the air,
and I asked of the sea,
and I asked of the earth,
and the earth said to me:

“We have each of us done
the tasks we were set;
the sky breathes the sea,
with its tears I am wet.

”I bear fruit in the summer:
in winter I sleep;
I have grown mighty trees;
they lie burned in a heap.

”And all you were asked
was to love one another,
to care for the stranger
as if they’re your brother.

”And if you had done this,
my forests would stand,
my rivers would flow free,
all stainless my land.

”But you’ve made a great burning
with hatred for fuel.
You will find that our battle
is even more cruel.

”The tears of the sea
are stronger than hate;
the fire of the sun
burns early and late.

”We are stronger than fools,
though they pummel and gasp;
how strange that they think
they don’t dwell in our grasp.

”There is no more to say,
for it all has been said
a thousand times over;
your sins on your head.”

I turned, and I stumbled,
a sob in my throat;
for all life seemed a darkness,
and fate a turncoat.

And I went to the wolf
and called him my brother,
the vultures my sisters,
to love one another.

The devil may hang,
and the fates will not care,
but I’ve kept the commands
as I could now, I swear.

The mountains may fall
when you’ve burned all their trees,
the rocks and I stay
though may be on our knees.

My brother and sister:
the sky and the sea,
my father the sun
and the earth that bore me,

We have each done as bidden;
the prophets may sneer,
but I’ve done as I could:
I have loved far and near.

And only God knows
if I’ve kept his command,
but for this I have labored,
and on this I stand.

And I am not a fool,
and I may not be wrong,
for I’ve sung to the earth,
and the earth heard my song.

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