The One – Song 5: Threshing, Segment 2

Originally published May 20, 2019...

What happens when we experience a severe loss in our lives? What is our reaction? What’s to be done? What responses do the people around us have to our distress? What reactions do we want them to have? For some who have experienced a loss, the solution is isolation, as we shall see; however, something or someone always seems to intervene to break the solitary state, as will be apparent in Segment 3.

When it is a young person bearing the loss, coping strategies are few, no matter how brilliant youth may be. Perhaps more than any other time in life, relationships are highly volatile during adolescence – and important, in equal magnitude. Relationship is all there is! This is true whether we are talking about the natural world, human interaction, or stellar bodies. And if this statement is true, we may do well to attend to relationships in equal measure.

Perhaps this Song says something about how life is diminished as relationships dwindle. Since a loss of relationship occurs in this segment, as well as the end of the prior segment, we have a chance to consider these matters.

 Song 5 Segment 2 – Threshing

I don’t see Jani again in those days

A harborless sailor out on humming sea

I imagine my friend dark against a 

weather horizon, out in the howling

            yelling downward from the masthead rigging, 

“Get away! 

Go now, my knife is ready for your heart!”

The voice dims and fades though the slanting storm’s 

shadow rises up blacker overhead

Jani did not belong here, nor do I

I will not forget this, I swear an oath

I’ll show this pitiful town what we were 

            if I must split myself and half become her

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

A month goes by that seems more like a year

People ask me where Jani is. I say,

            “How should I know?”     and   “None of your business!”

                        because I don’t know and they do not care

My teacher asks how things stand now with me

I know if I answer I will surely 

            tell the truth and that’s hard enough to keep 

            inside me where it’s hidden well and safe

If I tell him the shadows interred there

            I know that I will fall in –disappear

So, I say nothing but “I am all right”

He does not believe it but favors me

            by sadly smiling, and not asking more

Every night I climb the tower remembering

I climb fast and reckless not caring if 

            I miss a step – fall like the three-inch knife

That would be easiest and least trouble

The first morning watch would find me broken

            cold-dead and crumpled below the tower

Instead I sit on the platform under 

            icy stars thinking – figuring what to do

                    to be – now that she is gone -- not with me

Part of me is glad she is – another

            part wants to be with her, backs to the sea

I see the crippled kid who blames Jani

            in the end, not me, just as Jani said

He keeps insisting on showing me his

            slashed shoulder in the progressive stages 

                        getting well – like an old, submissive dog

                        turning belly up for another slash

This hurts the most because it keeps showing

            the part of Jani I am glad is gone

            the part of me I am afraid is here

When the crippled kid keeps on coming back

I yell at him to stay away from me

It is quite clear this hurts me more than him

            the way he looks at me from a distance

            waiting for me like a hungry puppy

While I am caught between my bristling words

            and something harder, nameless, poisoning

            like a serpent hidden under blankets

I do all the work the teacher asks for

I stay away from home more – no one but

            the crippled kid seems to notice if I’m

                        around – even the teacher stops asking

The house I live in is where I eat, sleep

            and dodge the noisy people who are there

                        busy dealing with their own ghosts to care

                        as long as I make no more trouble there

The Spring brings warm nights and I stay longer

            at the tower watching the moon arc up

            true, white and constant, even when it rains

            a pale light comes through the gray curtain-clouds

I leave only because I fear rolling

            off the platform in my sleep and because

            those at home will make a fuss come morning

As warmer days roll out the green grass fields

            spread out from the tower, and the teacher’s room

            grows hot and small so I cannot breathe there

I take extra food as I leave home each

            morning, head out of town toward the river

            where the trees make concealed, quiet places

I return for more food late in the day

            and head as always for the tower at night

It can’t last – I know it – the others will

            make me go back to the teacher’s small room

While it endures, I’ll chew on every weed

            turn each gray stone and stir river’s waters

The freedom is like a red fruit I bite

            and suck and swallow letting the sweetness

            paint my throat blood-red and swirl down darkly

On the tower, I look out to the edge

            where the black circle meets the purple sky

I listen to the white stars’ humming drone

            and watch their paths across the vaulted dome

I can count on them – they are always there    

            the stars – the sky – the moon – the pulsing sound

            They ask no questions – but they point southbound

I feel the smell of town peeling off me

            like dead skin off a snake at molting time

I feel the part of me that flies spreading

            blue wings unfurling from my back at night

I feel all right these days since Jani left

            I see her now – she’s always upside down

                        hanging from her knees on the bright cross-spar

                        of a tall triple-masted sailing ship

                        daring that thin bar – willing it to break

            She hangs suspended and she never falls

I’m the one who is falling into place

I see Jani’s grin set ‘round savage teeth

From this distance, I can see her clear heart

            to remember Jani and to wish her

            towers and masts to climb all her lovely life

Because I understand her leaving now

            as the single way it could be done at all 

            to make it easier for both of us

            to get her gone and get me on my way

Around all this I shape a perfect bubble

            to contain all the world and hold it still

I repeat this story again, again

            until I cannot tell where I begin

            and Jani ends in the cold stars between

In the ninth month of floating in my bubble

I hear a sound below the tower where no

            sound should be because tonight is windless

                        a sound like something dragging cross the grass

It could be a snake, I guess – but it sounds

            much larger than any snake I have seen

I strain my ears but hear only pulsing

            in my head – my own heart thumping faster

Now again the hiss of rustling grasses

I feel a tremor from a foot placed on

            the tower ladder hanging down below

Something – someone is climbing up to me

Suddenly relieved I call out, “Jani!?”

Background:

Most people have made and lost friends. Sometimes the loss is for the better; sometimes not. In any case, things never stay the same. Change is integral to our existence, although most of the time we act like it’s an affront to have things so.

Even though our character eventually realizes why Jani had to leave, a yearning remains, as represented in the final line of this segment which is about current relief at what appears to be Jani’s return. Why so eager for Jani’s appearance even after our character has come to resolution about her departure?

This current series of Songs charts the rough seas of middle youth years. Some of us choose not to revisit those years due to their chaos and pain, and even trauma. Still, for most, this time of “firsts” is also a period of great adventure and discovery, even if usually on the physical/emotional planes. That said, recalling these early years can be a real challenge as we attempt to sort through the chaos, the poor choices, and the elaborate successes. In short, this segment is part of a much longer look at impetuousness during this time of life for a young person, and the resolutions, if any can be found, for more than a brief time. This is the beginning of an “adventure of a lifetime!” Nothing can prepare our young characters for that; they must learn this for themselves. Even a compassionate teacher can only go so far.

Exploration 1: Why does our character climb the tower each night? Do you think the oath made about showing the town what the two of the are/were will ever be made good?

Exploration 2: Why to you think the protagonist dislikes the town so much? Is this normal or aberrant? Do you think a helpful approach exists for such a situation?

Exploration 3: What is it that makes our character imagine Jani in maritime scenes, and always “upside down?”

Exploration 4: What is your reaction to “the crippled kid’s” continued presence in the main character’s life. Any thoughts on how this relationship may evolve – or not?

Exploration 5: Consider the excerpt below. Why does the protagonist repeat “this story”? What does it mean when someone can’t tell the difference between self and other?

Excerpt:  “I repeat this story again, again

  until I cannot tell where I begin

  and Jani ends in the cold stars between”