Marinkel *'s blog/

there's a staircase and the frogs are singing or is it your mother walking through the high grass humming a tune, hunting frogs for the soldiers who have besieged your home, soiled your floors, sleeping in your clean sheets? no, these were the happy days when you could hear them a mile off, her and your favorite sister, picking flowers singing in unison with the frogs and you just lay on your bed, still, listening, daydreaming that these days would never end. but they did and the bombers flew overhead and barley was cut violently and your mother fell to the herds of madmen and all was nullified in an instance.

and you saw one man cutting through the high grass as you came running down the marble staircase and your smile froze on your babyface as you recognized your sister's hair dangling in the man's hand and from far off you could hear her silent sobs and it hasn't stopped, this incessant sobbing, only meant for your ears and the blaming of you. brother, why didnt you come for me? while you were lying still in your bed i was ravished and what you took for singing and what put a smile on your face, they were my pleadings, brother, and my tears, as i was cut down like the grass. while you were living your childhood in a dream it was the blade cutting through my tresses and the linens i wore and you didnt come for my rescue. you were sleeping, brother. you were dreaming, love.

and the boy took up his rage and he ran towards the man with a rage greater than that of a thousand angels and with his bare hands he strangled that man; and he seized the tresses dangling from his lifeless hand. and he looked back up to the heavens and he saw his own face reflected in the clouds. he was a grown man. with that singing in his ear. with that ringing in his ear. he had killed again. but sister, won't you stop your crying? sister, won't you stop your tears? and the sirens rang out again and there was no room for cover. you saw them one by one falling. and it never ever stops all this suffering.

you were an old man then and you walked into the ocean. there was a different man in the waters. he said, come to me child. and you happily swam toward him. he took you inside his great wings, he washed your head. he laid you to rest at the bottom of the sea.

when they brought you home you had already moved into the trees. chattering like a little boy. i see you there among the branches and i know you are here to do good. you are good, baby. now be still.

(now you only hear the whispering winds...)

copyright by marinkel.