Wednesday, March 05, 2008

• Act 4 

  Is it beginning to unfold?

  There is such a long way to go

  for years, I could not speak their language.

  And so they spoke mine

  The vinedresser, yes, he is the one who made it so

  You have not seen him here?

  Oh , never you mind

  we will meet him in good time

  But not yet.

  There are witnesses, you see

  Yes, these strong sentinels stand as witnesses to the thorns and briars that tossed their caustic rhetoric

  among tenderlings

  whose very leaves and veinules were so carefully maintained

  to bear the tri quatrain fruit of my Tender’s fame.

  That was when the hands of sustenance

  Were training up new lines of thought in the way they should go

  grafting

  pruning…

  all so gentle and eloquent;

  I did not see it then.

  Such a pity…

  But they did.  The trees saw these seedlings

  change, as the turning of the leaves -

  I who watered with swill and swallowed, allowing the hate-speech to have its way in the undergrowth;

  I broke the tenant farmers’ hearts

  Their elocution meant for mighty oaks

  washed away like so much fertilizer.

  They stood back and saw instead the burrs and nightshade poison flowing freely

  from my intermittent pen  

  • 10:57 AM
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