• esseystern 5w


    I dreamt of walking in the wide plane of my home
    Into a cloister that was never there
    Passing the sun blinded houses and stony paths
    And thinking this is the place where they will go

    The cloister was vast and terrifying
    The space almost a cavernous voice
    Speaking unfamiliar terms, and yet so very close
    As I moved further, I thought this could be the sinking place

    Then I saw shadows above me and beyond
    Not descriptive, thrown maybe by disgusted hands
    That abstract silent picture was so very bland
    I imagined a collective sigh myself

    But these were the silent stepping forward, so impersonal
    Stepping into the great river, not one into the boat
    A stream of phantoms forming a bridge to the other land
    Patient, arrow after an arrow, gliding through the water

    And the ferryman alone on the bank, observing
    The winners on the field beyond
    Walking, then being pushed by the mass,
    with their blunt senses distorted and closed
    The ferryman, a creature of movement, a frozen waterfall
    Waiting with the oar thrown to the ground!

    And there was a strong pull to dissolve into the water
    I think it united all of us, them, moving, still or stalled
    When I could, I ran to the only other being
    cried "ferryman ferryman are you even alive"

    Surely even Hades must have wept if this had happened
    To most unhappy Orpheus
    Surely this isn't the path of the dead
    Ferryman are you able to arrange a crossing?

    He said he would not take me
    As he held me in his arms and we swayed on the rocks
    And those that he would do not want his service
    They long made their own road

    But what about the ritual I whispered
    As the scene was swept away