mind stretched
in so many different directions
that it is a freaking wonder
of wonders
that it is there at all:
everything collapsing
on top of itself;

and yet, next week,
I travel over 400 miles
to be there for the high school graduation
of my youngest daughter:

but, commencement of what?

commencement of the end of this planet?

commencement of the beginning of the end?

here I am, a grown man,
standing alone in a field
of shattered dreams,
of silenced screams,
of our inhumanity to ourselves,
and I have no answer:
I am vacant,
I have no descant,
I am merely remembrance,
not quite transcendence,
but equally

whoever is in control,
(and mind you, I have neither time
nor patience for conspiracy theories),
please, please, please
will you simply release us
from your sharp-taloned clutches,
let us fall free down to the ground,
from which we sprang;

we are sorely tired of the battle,
and do not care who won;
we are only desiring
the peace of the undone;

if you must, lay upon us your planks,
and carry yourselves over our ranks;
but do us only one favor:
on our defeat, do not savor;

it will come again, a long time from now,
to devour you,
and your mercy now,
might one day absolve you;

we, the defeated, offer no counsel
to the victorious
more than simply that winning
may not always be so glorious;

go, then, as you must,
to seek gun barrels
instead of trust,
and know then that you seed
far more than you will need,
far more than you will reckon,
but so much more
that will beckon,
and cast aside your creed,
and leave you bent,
upon your knees.

June 18, 2010, for Rianna Susan Pursley, my youngest daughter of three such, in whom I present my very best work in this life. She graduates from Yorktown High School on June 24, 2010. I love you, RiRi.

Copyright © 2010, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.