The One – “Song 4: Separation” Segment 1

Originally published April 8, 2019...

Today’s post leads us into entirely new territory. The main character matures, if only slowly; however, at least the vocabulary used indicates a growing intelligence and awareness, and the budding of an independent being is observable. In this Song, the epic enters a full and accessible narrative – a story that begs to be read. More characters appear, and the scenes and events – even dialogue – become robust. A lot happens in this Song, including the beginning of the young person’s breakaway from hearth and home. Please be prepared that with all this going on, the Songs generally present longer from here on; for example, this “Song 4” is over 11,000 words, five times longer than any Song before it. We’ll be breaking that chunk down into five sequential segments, except for one guest-poet post at about the middle of the five segments for a respite.

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Today I wake and know that time has come

Something out there and I must see its face

            beneath the chilled floor of this living place

                        stretched deep, narrowing to a blunt-end point

                                    sunken cellar, hollowed out muddy earth

As a child, I feared this earth-tapered vault

            and would not go down without someone else

                        with trap door open to let in the light

            trembling all the while until I emerged

Today, I must go in to bring it out

            some dark matter waits there for me, I’m sure

            some red and black force that will not surface

                        cannot reveal itself by law or choice

So, I must go in to harrow it out

            must dive in headfirst, submerge completely

            not dally scraping dirt along the edge

                        pull the door closed behind me, blocked by thin

                        wedge to be my latchkey when I ascend

I rush to the cellar straight from my bed

            long before all others wake to the day

                        and see what I’m doing – try to stop me

                        from going where I must go – now – today

The heavy slant door smells moist and mildewed

            as I slide the bolt back and lift the boards

            I breach the gloom, then jam a wooden wedge

            to allow a fingerhold but no light

Inside the muffled chamber all round dark

            my eyes strain for shape-shreds but none appear    

my scraping feet the only outer sound

Inside, my heart pounds blood against my ears

A clear way between shelves but narrow too

            I feel my way stooping toward the rear

            where the shelving stops and damp earth begins

            Here I sit, tuck my knees to chest – listen

My heartbeat thumping loud against my ears

Breath rustling in and out my nose hairs

I’m determined to hear the sound of what

            makes this hole its home – it must be right here!

At once fear roars up my throat hard and hot

            and sticks there in a choking lump swabbing

            all the wetness from my mouth – afraid, I

            try to quiet heart and breath to listen 

I am desperate to silence all my noise

Press breath down and quiet so I can hear

I assure myself that I can leave here

            when I choose – nothing stops me from going

now or later – but I want to get out 

            suddenly and be in the calming light

At last, I simply stay    and breathe      and wait

I recall and count the reasons I’m here

            One – I need a place where I am alone

                        away from shouting, noise and endless chores

When the others find me sitting, they make

                                    work for me as if thinking’s not allowed

                                    as if working takes dangerous thoughts away

            Two – when I ask why I must do as told

                        why what I am and do is not enough,

                        they say “forget it” or “strange question” and

                        I get no answers there – that’s why I’ve come

            Three – I don’t fit in – everyone says so

                        No one asks what I like or even care

                                    but I can’t help but ask for I must know

                                    must surface out of endless confusion      

                                    make sense of messages thatcome in dreams

I shake myself, relax, breathe in slowly

            Soon I am somewhat sure no cold corpse arms

                        will grab me and drag me deep under earth

            Whatever lives here doesn’t want to harm me

                        or I would already be dead or worse

Forcing relaxation, I notice thoughts

            tumbling over one another bumping

            interrupting until my attention

            bursts into fragments with no direction

            rather blocking logic and intention

Such stupidity’s annoying and must

            be tamed, so I view all this commotion

            like the confusing noises of people

                        I’m forced to listen to, so like with them

                        I tune my ears and muffle to a thrum

                        inside, the noises quiet to a hum

As sounds fade and retreat, I listen hard

            and the clatter dries up like a puddle

            then a high-pitched silvery note – fiery thin – 

like an airborne beacon that does not change

“What is that?” I ask listening close again

It sounds familiar like I should know it

I press my palms tight on my ears but this

            makes the note louder and I am surprised

            to find the sound not out there but within!

I turn fore and aft to find any change

            but all directions sound back just the same

            as I try standing, sitting, and lying down

The tone holds constantly one silver sound

I feel safe when listening to the silver

            as if it has always been here – not just

            now, but with me from before I came here

I could listen for hours to this sound core

            to this long, grace-note ring, sending steady

            clear, star-glazed radiance ringing down through me

I think this sound envelops what I want

            to know, so I listen harder and try

            to follow wherever the note goes

Now the pitch steadies deeper, dissolving

            thoughts into patterns that filter the crazy

            and ring truly to show me right and strong

Now rises an uncommon composition . . .

            I need to know too much that is not here

            Others can’t know and hide under laughter

            They point at me when they cannot explain

            I am different and that will not change

I sit up straight and frightened at this rush

            of these things I have known but could not say

            all the hints and hunches I’ve pushed away

Words tumbling out of darkness all at once

one silver resonance of certainty

every word a precious actuality

The note gathers up pieces and presses

            them into hard white stones and yellow pearls

            all hung glittering from unfurled white sails 

I glimpse what I quake to think I cannot 

do at all, and must be done all at once

This makes me dizzy and I start to sweat

Suddenly I need air – breeze on my face

I jump up from crouching and hit my head

            stumbling, crashing into shelves and toppling

            pots, bags tumbling, confusion in the dark

I lose my way and for a panic-stricken

            moment I cannot tell the one way out

            so, I feel my way along the damp walls

            until I reach the taller end and touch

            redeeming door where my body falls, rights

Relieved, I push but it does not open

It is stuck or blocked or something heavy

lies across it – in a panic, I push

with all my strength and one thin blink of light

an inch slips through the crack – the door crashes

a thud of darkness, my eyes still flaring

I am shut in – trapped – helpless – no one knows

A damp breath prickles cold all down my back

I am terrified, frozen, stunned, can’t move

I am dead – buried alive! – in my grave!

A whimper escapes in spite of myself

I clamp my mouth before I cry for help

I will not cry or scream and have them laugh

I will die here first and then they will find

            my bones poking through my rotting flesh and . . . 

“Stop it!” I warn myself out loud – me with

panicked baby voice about to burst out

loud and whining at this slightest setback

I slump down in a squat to think and fret

I could wait until I am missed – but then

            who would know where to look, and I won’t shout

            or shriek or yell, not even to get out

I could stay until someone else comes in

for any reason.  How long will that be? 

No, I must rescue myself. Yes, that’s it!

            I must make a move now – figure it out

I start hurried groping in total, perfect dark

I feel poles, sticks, boards, baskets and more pots

some of which I might use to pry the door –  

brace it up – make a space to slide me through 

I carry a heavy stick to the door 

doubling my strength, I push against the weight

enough to slide the stick in between and

persist, pace by pace, to build my path up

toward the light and when I’ve opened a gap

I carefully squeeze my whole body out – 

I’m through! I stand wet, gasping, I see it – 

            a shape lying beside the cellar door 

where someone has dropped a huge, heavy bag

of potatoes by carelessness or with

intent to hurt me, I can’t be certain

But it does not matter.  I have rescued 

myself, released myself, set myself free

            and if I can do this, I think, then I

            can leave this place – these people – someday soon

They cannot hold me here against my will

I do not know how I will leave or when

but I will           Yes, I will          I will 

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No one asks where I have been all these hours

No one notices any change in me

They don’t see that I am already gone

            packed up, no goodbyes, no tears – on the run

That night . . .

I sail toward the ones already at sea

breaking through freezing spray and shuddering waves

my diamond prow splits ice – trails jagged shards

I can hear the shanties on the shrill wind

                        I am coming         I am coming

                        though my wings are pinned

I am headed home – out of nearby dark

My tribe will know me by our common mark

My bow is pointed toward my own country

white wings tacking toward pale eternity

A single journey – a voyage of One

Four thousand years of sailing the sea way

Landless gull contouring the dusky waves

simply and truly exploring toward home

I think back on shores of driftwood and stone

beaten by clear ice and salt-crusted waves

under heaving heart of white-breasted foam

and the graceful ribbed flesh of wild ocean

When I wake, sadness is wider between

who I am and that bright sailor to be

A wider gap between the steps I walk

and the others I want to leave behind.

I say little to them that is not shouts

They favor me with the same, and I just

dream and wait, and brew my future alone

by the dark-found compass I’ll always trust

Background

Discovery is the name of the maturing person’s nature. So much to explore; more to be discovered. “Separation” begins with the need to part ways, as most healthy young persons wish to do. Something more is going on here; however, and the reasons for the wish for departure are more intense and stranger than usual. A sense of destiny and of failing to be in the “right” place permeate this Song. It may be worth considering whether or not most young people do want to “separate” in the same way and for the same reasons as does our protagonist. Or is this all fantasy, and if you were to talk to the main character, would you say that the better course is to just settle down and “get real.” Herein lies one of life’s defining questions and forks in the road.

Exploration 1: Why must the main character go into the cellar? What is there? Is literary symbolism involved here?

Exploration 2: What is the conflict with the place and people where the protagonist lives? Are there familiar echoes for you?

Exploration 3: Does this Song resonate with the issues of adolescence? If so, do you know (or have you known) any person who experienced such issues?

Exploration 4: Why are some sections italicized? Is it the same reason as in prior Songs?