"What will fear drive you to do?" A poem...
Isaiah 50:11
Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that
compass yourselves about with sparks: walk in the light of your fire, and in
the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of mine hand; ye shall lie
down in sorrow.
Loneliness and sorrow settle on me like the night;
no moon or stars to guide me in the darkness of my
woe.
Deep in the woods of melancholy,
deep in the woods of fear – who will ever find me
here?
I am alone in the pitch black of my mind, in the
pitch black of my heart,
desperate in my need to see and be seen.
Here is tinder ready at hand, the shadows and
phantoms that haunt me in the dark;
and here the flint rock of my hardened fear, upon
which I strike, with terrored force,
my desire, my craving, my yearning of basest urge.
I must fight the darkness of this world and not let
it consume me.
I must set fire to the dry and hollow of this place
and have it burn.
Sparks fly up from my own flesh – see? I am not alone –
the heat of ash and burning embers are stars and
moon of my own making,
I walk in the light of pride, guided by my own
burning.
Mistaking the pain for love and the searing for
union,
I dance in the flames of self-kindling, chopped up
into little bits of fuel.
Conceit and distrust spread the fire all through
me,
what doesn’t char and crumble is melting into the
ground,
and yet, the monstrous spectres do not burn away –
they are in the fire, they are in my hands,
they are in my eyes and ears and nose and mouth,
choking me…
I am suffocating in smoke.
Had I only waited…
had I only made my home in the loneliness
instead of burning my way out;
had I only listened for the night sounds, not
terrible and creeping,
but, deeper in the forest of my discontent, the
voice
of living water running deep, the song of the Source
singing the night… singing the coming dawn…
singing me, who was never alone.
Christina Chase