Forsaken (an Elegy), The Distances, Second Series (from The Songs Of The Erinnyes, Sonnets, Odes, and Elegies by Jay Noya, Brigantium Press)
Forsaken (an Elegy)
1
It does come down to age and to how much I had seen and done
And loved
Since it is to be remembered that it was the misery of a dying man
Horrified by the cruelties of soldiers and provincial administrators
And the ire of a faceless and enraged mob
Shouting obscenities and berating a man restrained by ropes
A scorned and ridiculed man flanked by soldiers
A man cornered like a shivering beast
With his head bowed in dismay and fright
Because at thirty-three I had not seen much of the world
I hadn’t had the opportunity to loaf and stare at the sun
And what there was of the waning day
Or wait idly for the dusk and the moon’s passage
Across the night sky splitting the world in halves
And subduing the brain with a hoary radiance and penumbrae
Then again it is true that I walked dusty roads and bathed in rivers
And that I ate meals with strangers who spoke unfamiliar languages
And that I laughed with them and listened to long and queer tales
And that I wondered at the veracity of what I heard
Just as it is true that I did travel alone
And did take refuge in caves and under old trees to keep warm
And keep out of the rain and away from the wind
I sat by fires during starry nights in the desert
And there were days and nights when I wept miserably
Knowing my mother to be lonely and anguished by my absence
2
What is it that I have become and where am I at this hour?
Who am I that I should suffer
And misunderstand all that I misunderstand
And all that so overwhelms my soul?
But I am not alone in my grief
And I say it lifting my eyes to the heavens
To watch the traffic of clouds
And the traffic of days and nights
And to watch the ebb and flow of the seasons
Because I am now as disconsolate
As when I first sensed my father’s eyes on me
Certain of my helplessness and confounded by it
And lost to the eternities of moments that were not designed
To contain and accommodate the body
And house the soul in perpetuity
Because I was blighted
And flawed at birth
© J.Noya 2010
1
It does come down to age and to how much I had seen and done
And loved
Since it is to be remembered that it was the misery of a dying man
Horrified by the cruelties of soldiers and provincial administrators
And the ire of a faceless and enraged mob
Shouting obscenities and berating a man restrained by ropes
A scorned and ridiculed man flanked by soldiers
A man cornered like a shivering beast
With his head bowed in dismay and fright
Because at thirty-three I had not seen much of the world
I hadn’t had the opportunity to loaf and stare at the sun
And what there was of the waning day
Or wait idly for the dusk and the moon’s passage
Across the night sky splitting the world in halves
And subduing the brain with a hoary radiance and penumbrae
Then again it is true that I walked dusty roads and bathed in rivers
And that I ate meals with strangers who spoke unfamiliar languages
And that I laughed with them and listened to long and queer tales
And that I wondered at the veracity of what I heard
Just as it is true that I did travel alone
And did take refuge in caves and under old trees to keep warm
And keep out of the rain and away from the wind
I sat by fires during starry nights in the desert
And there were days and nights when I wept miserably
Knowing my mother to be lonely and anguished by my absence
2
What is it that I have become and where am I at this hour?
Who am I that I should suffer
And misunderstand all that I misunderstand
And all that so overwhelms my soul?
But I am not alone in my grief
And I say it lifting my eyes to the heavens
To watch the traffic of clouds
And the traffic of days and nights
And to watch the ebb and flow of the seasons
Because I am now as disconsolate
As when I first sensed my father’s eyes on me
Certain of my helplessness and confounded by it
And lost to the eternities of moments that were not designed
To contain and accommodate the body
And house the soul in perpetuity
Because I was blighted
And flawed at birth
© J.Noya 2010
posted by Jay Noya at 1:00 PM
