The One – Song 9: Darkness Rising, Segment 4

Originally published December 23, 2029... 

Several weeks have passed since the prior post of Song 9: Darkness Rising, so I’ll make a quick transition to this fourth post (one more to go) in this part of the narrative. The main character (MC) has been sent on a “mission” to bilk an old fellow named Hertwig. These two meet and discuss and by the time they leave together, the MC has lost all interest in stealing anything from the old gentleman. In this segment, we continue to follow them to Hertwig’s lodgings where the exchange continues.

At last, he leaves, and I wander behind

as he makes his way through gray city streets

to where, I do not know, and do not care

Some odd force urges me to follow him

to unveil whatever mystery he holds

After a maze of dim streets and alleys

Hertwig stops before a dirt-streaked black door 

open to a staircase leading to darkness

and still I follow trudging up the steps

while Hertwig puffs and wheezes, “Almost there.”

At a second door, he fumbles for keys

selects one key and shoves it in the lock

door opens – he invites me to enter

Inside, waves of deep velvet green cover

pedestals and risers and atop each

precious items rest – jewels, silver, rings

amethyst, coins, bronze vessels, ornaments

I think I must be dreaming or the drink

at the tavern contained a grave potion

Hertwig glances at me with half a smile

and says, “Do you like my small collection?”

“Yes,” I say, “but how do you keep it safe?”

“I show to few, and those I do, I kill.”

I take three wild steps backward towards the door

Hertwig belly laughs and slaps my back hard

“Don’t worry. I already know your trust

Your word is worth more than any bauble” 

“You can’t know. Our acquaintance is too short”

“Oh, just call it long, rich experience

but come, come, sit and have some tea with me”

He rummages for the pot, tea and cups

while I shake my head completely baffled

by his treasure and by his innocence

This might be a ruse, but he may just be

authentic – someone I would like to know

maybe even learn from like my teacher

Soon, we sit, and sip, and share like old friends 

delighting in tales of our adventures

His are lengthy, wide-ranging, abundant

Mine are guarded, short-lived, full of remorse

We both have smooth currents and rougher seas

“How came you to this place?” Hertwig asks me

His words flow out lovely foreign cadence 

archaic, royal, kindly, wise, and true

“By chance and folly, and not you’ll guess by

innocence, rather sins and betrayals

Once again, my language mirrors his tongue

I can’t for my life say why this rapid change

Is this witchcraft? Or worse, evil demonic?

I feel carried off on a pristine sea

barely knowing this creature, I call me

He takes me deeper, lacking my consent

“Yes,” he goes on. “There are those who perish

from not seeing what boldly calls for sight

Some even have aversion to the truth

The world’s ablaze with fires of dying light

We are always burning with great desire

And now, to you. What is your one desire?

That prime one that pulls you from place to place?”

I almost fall off my chair reacting

to his astounding question, the same one

I have asked myself from the beginning

I think how to answer rightly, truly

or whether I should answer this at all

and reveal secrets I want kept hidden

With no thought, I blurt out, “I want my boat!”

He lifts his chin and raises his eyebrows

How stupid, I chide and lecture myself

feeling like a child of seven years old                                

“Ha! So, of all there is, you choose your boat?”

His voice doesn’t hold surprise or judgment

I can’t stop my younger self I despise

“The boat is what I need to sail from here.”

“But what if I am granting you one wish?”

The old man leans in close to me and waits

I fidget under silent scrutiny

With this old one, I dread speaking falsely

A longing springs up from deep unknowing

territory I have not walked before

Hart’s image flickers dark and light without

holding shape or speaking wisdom to me

How should I answer such a bold question?

Suddenly, I relax and feel the truth:

“I seek this ‘one’ that I have never seen”

Unphased, leaning easy into his chair

“You speak of the path that leads to answers”

His demeanor is all patience and glow

His former ugliness has disappeared 

He settles farther back, folding his arms

across his barrel chest clothed in black wool

His pause turns to a long exhaled, pale sigh

“So, let us begin with this boat of yours.”

He seems too familiar with my vessel

Again, my thoughts turn to selfish motives

What does he want from me? So far, nothing

“Once you find it, where will you take it then?

Or perhaps, more likely wind and current

will drive your star course and navigation

I can’t stop myself – again – I answer – 

“That’s the thing. I cannot even name it.”

“But the answer includes ‘away from here’?”

“Yes! Yes! Of that I’m absolutely sure.”

I say without one clue where that might be

and I see the good folly of my flight

Always away, in hate, from where I am, 

never toward some favored destination

As if penetrating my thoughts, he says

“Yet, you spend your life out always leaving 

where you once were, only to run again.”

“Yes, Chickopee is where I was true born”

That name sticks to my tongue like rancid butter

“And that alone means it is not the place?”

“Well, yes. Of course not. How could it be so?”

“I ask, in turn, how you know it is not?”

“I just know. That’s all. That much is quite clear.”

“Then, next you must ask how you’ll know once there – 

that place you run so intensely to reach

Perhaps you are already there and can’t

see that because your history darkens it”

I say no more. I have no more to say                    

I’m wounded by his dart of spoken truth

Answers to these questions are a mystery

Away! Away! Flight! Weigh anchor and sail!

Of these, I’m sure to the center of my bones

but my certainty provides no compass 

I look up at Hertwig, who smiles tenderly

Anger and shame lie entwined in my throat

“It’s all right,” he says. You came this far

to be able to see what you see now

“Perhaps,” I admit. But what to do now?”

“Go back to the place of your birth and home?”

“Never! Not there. I would rather be dead!”

“And now, not here either, so it would seem?”

He speaks the truth. I’ve no words to counter

So, the space holds null and quiet under

the weight of discernment without judgment

the bulk of my own rash indecision

a sure, headlong leap of imprecision

“Don ‘t fret on this. From such spaces can come

the best of shifts – the ones we see dimly

Hertwig’s warm words release truth’s heaviness

Shifting toward me, gently his hand on my knee

Embarrassment at his touch, I stand

meander around the room pretending 

to examine the plunder or is it wealth

as if on exhibition: tapestries,

bracelets, broaches, boxes, jewels, and gold

“How did you get all these treasures?” I ask

“Oh, here and there, and in between – you see

I, too, have had my way with adventure.

Hearts like ours must run before settling down.”

The sound of that word – that name – brings back all

thoughts of sweet Hart, where I’m from, and right now

here with this man who has seen the home stars

among souvenirs of unspoken times

laid out carelessly – no reason or rhyme

Asudden I see it, in a green nest

of velvet brocade – a gold and blue eye

looks up from a black Dragon’s spiraled coils

but a miniature of the larger self

I raise my eyes to Hertwig’s, and he knows

I have seen perfection in the serpent’s

ebony scales and topaz-cerulean eye

“Yes, this one is magic. This one’s for you

Only a few vibrate with sixth of nine

For almost all, she is just a bauble

She hides her mystical side well enough

but not from you, I see. For you, she stands”

I stretch my hand forward hesitantly

I long to make this beauty mine – I must!

Feeling that I’ve found a long-lost treasure

“Yes, this one’s for you – enchantment and all

but know once you are bonded with the sixth

that bond is ceaseless and the magic real

In such mystery, you may well find ones

who are waiting for you out in the stars

the icicle points you knew as a child

the dancers of home all sky-clad and wild”            

“But prior to that, the mystery must

surface your true name where none now exists

a name of this dirt on which we survive

you must rush to emerald caves when it’s time

to fetch green diamonds from dragon’s hoard

Seeking a self, you follow what you feel

your life lashed to a never-ending wheel

Alongside you Seagrace tearing the bonds

when you call out to her, she will respond

her immense coils roiling the ocean

her spiked, fanged head in perpetual motion”

I stretch my fingers and stroke the black scales

The five coils roll like sea swells underhand

the work so delicate – fiercely alive

My trembling fingers curl ‘round the arched back

Swift tears well up, rain against the east sun

Could a black dragon, be guide to the one? 

I close my eyes; my thoughts start to rotate

Behind the lids, Seagrace’s blue-gold eye 

stops time, and at once I expand – explode 

Pressing my hand, hopeful warmth starts to spread

Hertwig and the velvet room start to spin

Sleep enfolds me as I fall down and in

I know I am dreaming, but all seems real

In the mists my black Dragon rises up

enfolds her ebony wings around me

She throws her head back and calls out one note

a note from long ago in birthing fog

Immortal serpent turns her head and shines

through me and far beyond all the great stars

One note from her throat, and she bites down hard

sound of wisdom’s woes on wings of sorrow

and there’s Hart below Seagrace, the Dragon

Under her wings, deep in the dream, evil 

evil gone – reconciliation here

Waking or sleeping, I cannot say now

immense joy rings from her powerful throat

singing of sad loves lost, wisdom acquired

. . .  I sleep folded under ebony wings

sweet bellows’ breath – rumbling nostrils quaver

the great snake’s head lightly resting on mine

first time, I feel safe with this sixth of nine

Seagrace rears up, wakened from serene sleep

“Never!” she roars

You are never safe! Safety is a lie!”

Stand on the battlements with sixth of nine

Background:

The title of this epic, The One, begins to unfold strongly in this Song. The conversation with Hertwig challenge the MC to identify who or what “the one” might be. Something about the human condition condemns us to the suffering of our individual searches. Each of us seeks “the one,” “the two,” “the many,” that if attained will “make everything all right.” In youth, most of us fall prey to this dynamic. For some, the searching lasts a lifetime. If one is fortunate, someone like Hertwig comes along to probe and challenge, and force the issue of identifying this “one.” I know this has been true for me, and to some (undivulged) degree, still is. One question arises: should we be grateful for people like Hertwig who cause us to look deeply into our wants and desires and motivations? Should we, instead, stay as far away from such persons as we can for fear they will destroy our fantasies of freedom from suffering?

Exploration 1: Do you think the MC’s change of heart regarding Hertwig is believable? Why or why not? 

Exploration 2: When the MC says, “I seek this ‘one’ that I have never seen,” do you think a clear idea has emerged of what this truly means? The One is about a search, a journey, for . . . well, we each define that for ourselves. At this point in the narrative, has the object of the search been identified?

Exploration 3: Speculate on the source of Hertwig’s insight and on his motivation to befriend the MC.

Exploration 4: Another dragon – Seagrace. more Dragons to come in future Songs. Think about the symbolism of Seagrace in the context of the MC’s search.