Monday, August 24, 2009

Ode to Balthazar

To a squirrel of the Belltower

The wind swept fog, life swaying in the breeze. It picked up over the fields in the direction of a long neglected meadow, Primordial being, first come, the land was new its race old. Yet new. Crawling and evolving, evolving and walking. I watched the distorted visage, the black specter as it caught my eye. Bridging time letting space shift by.

So absurd an incident. So little did we once think of it. the gods were there to protect us. Weren't they there to protect us? We bring nothing. Say we bring nothing. i bring nothing. It was inches from my face. I watched it float like a balloon in the corner of my eye, as if time could not pass by.

Was it mans knowledge thrown through the wind, no intent of malice but friendly play? Alas, I looked at it, unmoved. Could it be something else? Athletic? It would fall the other way. No sickening thud. That’s what I had heard. Shattering that thin layer of peace, a separate peace, forgotten peace. Something had snapped, something was lost.

More difficult to destroy, to warp, than to make. It seems so. It looked so. As I peered in disbelief. i mouthed, and words formed, quickly in my mind, reacted to before I had forced them to the surface. Writhing in its bile, demons hawked the beast.

Gentle creature, so lately loved, posthumously. Forsaken by its god, sacrificed in a wicked mass. The rising structure stood, cold. Colder than it has ever been. Not hate; but disillusion? Not anger. But melodic sorrow. Gentle creature, twitching, watching, perceiving its immutable doom.

In that moment were all one. We died as you. You died as us. We felt your presence. You had to leave. Gentle creature who pleases none, who is alone, with us we were one. taken quickly, we were taken aback. ventured slowly, to the realm; you had lived your short life in lament.

Gentle creature, who pleases none, who is alone, with us we were one, for a fleeting second you reached - we reached. We were one, walking in the blackness of the dying spring sun. It changed forever, colors bleating, image cleaving upon the phallic rock. Looming thoughts, dreams, gods protect; no more. You drifted into peace, from momentary pain.

Gentle Creature. Your forest of concrete betrayed you in your final breaths, it siphoned your life, and a part of us all. Quiet, brooding we looked at you, who please none, who is no longer alone, for we are one.

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