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LIGHTNING
“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” Oscar Wilde.
“We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.”―Tennessee Williams
My brother, my son, on the edge of the cliff
Walking and talking, they look out to sea
I shout and I shout, but they don’t hear me.
They’re fading, they’re falling, off the cliff side
The sky is as huge as the sea it is wide
At the moving of the moon, at the rising of the tide.
This Calvary moment’s when Satan is alive.
Of how he’ll adjust things and make it all swell,
If only I’ll sell him my right to the light. Darkness
Arrives in the middle of day: dripping with blood
That won’t go away. The shadow is mighty and
The darkness holds sway. The man on the cross takes
Aeons to die, remembers his son’s last despairing cry:
“My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?”
And thinks about truth and he thinks about lies.
