LITTLE MARY
One day while I was walking home
I passed a temple made of stone
Where a woman stood outside
Heavy with weariness and child
She looked so poor and so alone
I asked if I could hold the door
She smiled back and smoothed her veil
And said she lived not far from there
'My home is a hut with earthen floors
Not a cathedral of block and mortar
A little corner to lay my head
On a simple pallet for my bed'
Behind me lay a barren stretch of desert
Full of sand, scrub and thistle
Decaying plans, mistakes and regrets
Laying there like rotting corpses
Though weary of pressing forward
I could hardly bear to turn around
Or even stand still for long
Due to the horrible stench of it
In front of me lay a dark wood
Eerie, sinister and full of traps
Hovering above were ominous clouds
Whilst a thick layer of fog obscured the way
As I stood staring into the abyss
I made out shadowy outlines of trees
Their outstretched branches ready to snag me
And bare twisted roots poised to trip me
As the sun set and the temperature fell
I considered succumbing to the frozen darkness
Then I saw my sister the moon
And decided to keep walking
By morning the dark rain clouds
Had turned a misty blue gray
And the first flakes of snow
Seemed to wash away the numbness
When the sun finally broke through
I could see my path clearly before me
But no longer the path behind me
For it had all been covered in snow
If I had a thousand years
And a thousand rag mops
I could never mop up all the buckets
Of blood, sweat and tears
Shed by all the true believers
Fortunately, not all have unlimited capacity
For self absorbed grief and despair
After all, the world is very large
Filled with a myriad of creatures
All unique and interesting in their own ways
And though humble and mute
They would also have our attention
Instead, they are mostly ill used
Caged, butchered, skinned, hunted, trapped
Exterminated, experimented on
Generally marginalized and disregarded
Like God, they require a human voice
To speak on their behalf
Though many would speak for God
Few would speak for them
Because the moment one does
They too are marginalized and disregarded
One might as well be a bleating goat
Or a clucking chicken
Or a cow bellowing for her stolen calf
For all the world listens or cares
And yet, the true believer is particularly harsh
Caring mostly for riddles and mysteries
Only a chosen few can understand
And yet, happiness is not hard to understand
Behold, the uncomplaining creatures
How happy they are despite their troubles
They do not grieve over the past
Nor fret over poverty and future lack
Nor fight over lands, riches or whatever else
They can greedily lay away for themselves
Their needs are simple and few
But even these are usually denied
How many shall escape a violent death?
And who will remember them in their prayers?
None but the silly, misguided or insane
And though a little mocking and ridicule
May seem like small price to pay
Precious few are willing to pay it
For who could love a snorting pig?
A screeching monkey?
Or a squeaking rat?
Dying in its trap for the sin of existing
Behold, the true believer
Eyes firmly fixed upon the heavens
Or busily deciphering his scripture
Whilst ignoring the tragedy of his own making
He never cried nor made a sound
When I put him in the ground
Placed his heart right next to mine
And dug a grave inside my mind
Why oh why, moon in the sky
Did I believe that love could die?
Be forgotten or lie down
To sleep inside the cold, cold ground
A long, long time ago
I shut the door of my heart
After a long, long time
Of slowly drifting away
The air had turned cold
The leaves shriveled up and died
And I gradually forgot summer
Because that is the way life is
Or so everybody told me
Except for one person
To whom I had whispered
All of my hopes and dreams
Only he never believed me
Which wasn't too surprising
Since nobody else did either
And then he turned out to be
Only a summer dream himself
Or so I thought, until one day
A stranger stepped out from
The stark trees and dead leaves
Of a cold and barren wood
His face dripping with blood
From bashing it against a door
And I stared for a long, long time
In shocked concern and horror
Before it dawned on me
That a long, long time ago
I had been somebody's dream
I had been following
A narrow trickle of a brook
For a thousand miles
Only to find myself suddenly
Staring out at a vast blue ocean
Stretching far as the eye can see
Knowing I will never have to
Wander the earth ever again
What a provincial suburb
The world always was
Next to your enormous castle
Which I have only begun to explore