Sunday, August 16, 2009

The Smallest Sprout

Mortality eyes me like a ravished vulture. Circling round and round slowly, swooping down, closer and closer. It stares, unblinking, with an evil eye. Watching. Waiting. It’s patient. Very patient. It wants me. It will have me. But first I must be wounded, weak, and without the strength to fight back. Then he’ll grab me, sink his lecherous claws into my flesh, and tear the stringy meat from my bones with his powerful beak. He’ll hallow out my heart, eat it alive while it still pumps and splatters. He’ll consume my most dear, my most cherished. Ultimately, I am helpless.

I try to concentrate; to return to my work; I try to move on with my life, moment by moment. It’s tedious. Cold. Dark. Heavy. Outside and inside. I swallow and choke. I try to hold down the thick, lumpy, impending grief that wells up inside me. I try to be strong for Sidney’s sake. We lay down together in the grass, under the shadow of a palm. The warm air embraces us. Birds are singing. The sun is shining. “I lean and loafe at my ease… observing a spear of summer grass.” For a second my heart rebounds. But then doom wrenches me down again. A cool wind blows. A shadow passes over us. Goosebumps.

“Nevermore,” cries the vulture. “Nevermore.” I cling. Desperate. Helpless. Hopeless. Blurry. I push through the next moment. Go on. Force myself. My eyes are heavy. Sounds are droning, senseless. But I hear the prophet whisper, “…The smallest sprout shows there is really no death.”

We rest. We wait. We listen. We wait. We smell the grass. We wait. My arm is around him. I hold him tightly against my chest. There is no space between us. None. Our hearts beat softly. Together. One. A gentle breeze rustles the palm overhead; and the grass waves; so many uttering tongues. I can hear everyone and then no one. Sidney groans deeply. He grieves—for me—for my heart. The vulture descends. I’m brave. Blurry. I look into his milky brown eyes. Stroke him softly. Whisper into his ear, “You’re beautiful.” He fades away. Black spots turn to grey.

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