Wednesday 3 December 2008

You Say by Nathan Bednarek

“A star-filled sky”
You say.
“Just a pierced eye”
I say.

“The world is beyond the cape of night”
You say.
“The world is beneath the cape of night”
I say.

“Fill up your heart with fresh water”
You say.
“Fill up a sieve with fresh water”
I say.

“Eat the food I lay before you”
You say.
“Then flush it down, the whole menu”
I say.

“Walk the path, cleanse your robe”
You say.
“Yes, the path to my wardrobe”
I say.

“Don’t you see what’s ahead?”
You ask.
“Don’t you know I’m already dead?”
I ask.

“Your feet have not yet
descended to She’ol,
but the paths of life you forget
to contemplate. Heal
your bitterness, your regret.
Though you may not be ideal,
though your conscience may be in debt,
my love, o Son, I do not conceal.”

1 comment:

Rich Writers said...

There is something of the banal and the spiritual here. It is a mysterious poem. I enjoy the repetitions and the slight changes in the second speakers responses.