Friday, January 12, 2007

CEREMONY FOR REMEMBERING

A CEREMONY FOR REMEMBERING









PROLOGUE

LET US SUMMON TO MIND OUR DEAD
BE THEY PARENTS CHILDREN LOVED ONES OR DREAMS
BUT WHEN WE ARE DONE
LET US GENTLY CLOSE THE DOOR
AND LET THEM SLEEP




EMMAUS

THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT HIS EYES
LIKE A SOLDIER OFF TO WAR
SAYING GOODBYE TO LOVED ONES
OR A SAILOR FOR A LONG LONG TRIP

WE'D WALKED THAT ROAD MANY TIMES
MY FRIEND AND I
IT HAD BECOME A BIT OF A TASK
WITH NOTHING NEW
TO BE DONE WITH SWIFTLY
AND DONE WITH
WITH PLEASURE AT EITHER END
BUT NOTHING IN THE JOURNEY

UNTIL THE STRANGER CAME TO WALK WITH US
THIS STRANGER
WITH RELUCTANT EYES
HE'D SIGHT A TREE AND CALL IT OUT BY NAME
A FLOWER
BIRD
OR SOME CREEPING THING
THE WAY THE SUN TOOK A CLOUD
AND LIT IT UP WITHIN
OR CAST LONG SHADOWS
LIKE THE SHADOWS
THAT SAT UPON OUR HEARTS
THAT DAY

WHY ARE YOU SO SAD
HE ASKED
AFTER A WHILE

WE'D LET HIM TALK FIRST
OUT OF COURTESY
HE SEEMED TO NEED TO TALK
WHY ARE YOU SO SAD

AND SO TO THIS MAN
WHO SEEMED SO EAGER FOR LIVING THINGS
WE TOLD HIM OF A DEATH
OF OUR FRIEND JESUS
WHO HAD DIED
AND TO USE HIS IMAGERY
PLUCKED LIKE A FLOWER
THAT WAS THROWN AWAY
PICKED WITHOUT PURPOSE

OF A MAN
WHO WHEN HE SPOKE
BOTH TESTED US AND JOYED US

OF THIS JOURNEY
THAT WE TOOK
WHICH WAS DOUBLY LONG
FOR WE CARRIED SADNESS TO EMMAUS
THERE WOULD BE NO PLEASURE THERE

THE BODY WAS GONE
OH THE WOMEN HYSTERICAL
HAD SAID HE WAS RISEN
BUT THE BODY WAS GONE

WHY SHOULD HE DIE
WE BELIEVED HIM CHOSEN OF GOD
WHY SHOULD HE DIE

PERHAPS BECAUSE WE WERE TOO NUMB TO SPEAK
HE TOOK OVER THE CONVERSATION
WHEN DID YOU LEARN TO LOVE YOUR FATHER HE SAID

WHEN I BECAME THE AGE HE WAS
WHEN I DISLIKED HIM
IT SOMEHOW MADE HIM DIFFERENT THEN
AND UNDERSTANDABLE

SO JESUS CAME HE SAID
TO BE THAT PARENT
TO BE THE ONE WHO WENT BEFORE
TO BE THE ONE WHO LIVED AND DIED
AND TO BE TRULY RISEN
AS THE WOMEN SAID
TO BE THE PARENT
WHO HAD GONE BEFORE
SO YOU COULD LEARN
TO LOVE HIM AS YOU GREW
AND THROUGH HIM
THE FATHER TOO

PERHAPS IT WAS THE CADENCE OF HIS VOICE
OR THE WORDS OR THE MAN HIMSELF
BUT WE FELT CALM
WE INVITED HIM TO SUP WITH US
IN OUR GARDEN IN THE EVENING COOL
FOR THE DAY HAD RUN AWAY

AND WE KNEW HIM IN THE BREAKING BREAD
AND THE WINE
THAT TOOK THE JOURNEY'S DUST AWAY





THE SHAWL


THE SHAWL IS FINISHED
I HAVE WOVEN THE WOOL WITH TEARS
I HAVE HURT MY FINGERS
AND SUCKED SORROW

BUT I AM DONE WITH WEEPING NOW

IT WAS FITTING HE SHOULD DIE IN FALL
OR EARLY WINTER REALLY
WHEN GRAYNESS COMES UPON THE LAND

WOULD I CALL HIM BACK
TO RE-SUFFER ALL HIS PAINS
TO ELIMINATE MY OWN

DID I NOT LOVE HIM TO THE POINT I COULD LET HIM GO
IF GOING WERE THE BETTER CHOICE

BUT I AM DONE WITH WEEPING

THE SHAWL IS FINISHED

I SHALL FIND OTHER THINGS TO DO














BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD THE WATCHMAN CRIED
IN THE CITY WHERE HE WAS RIDING
ON A CART PILED HIGH WITH LAST YEARS DREAMS
AND LONG REMEMBERED ANGERS
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD
THIS CITY THAT WAS ONCE SO FAIR
WHOSE WALLS WERE WHITE AND RIVERS CLEAR
WHERE MEN WALKED OUT ALONE AND UNAFRAID
HAS BECOME A STINK HOUSE OF REMEMBERED PAIN
AND PENT UP SORROW
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD
LET WINDOWS ONCE MORE OPEN TO THE BREEZE
AND PIPERS PLAY NO MORE THE FUNERAL MARCH BUT GAY
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD
THAT MEN MAY SAY ON PASSING BY
A FAIR CITY THERE PLEASING TO THE EYE
AND HEAR
THE LAUGHTER RINGING IN THE AIR
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD




STARS


HE LIKED TO WATCH THE STARS
THEIR SENSE OF ORDER AND HIS FILIAL PRIDE
BOTH GAVE HIM WARMTH
HE LIKED THE LEGENDS THAT MEN TOLD
ABOUT THESE LANTERNS IN THE SKY
HE LIKED THE WAY THEY LED A SHIP
OR CARAVAN TO FIND A HOME
HE SOMETIMES THOUGHT HE HEARD THE SOUND OF SILVER BELLS
WHEN THE WIND WAS IN THE TREES
AND NIGHT CLOUDS CAME SCUDDING ACROSS THE MOON


WHEN WILD DOGS BARKED
AND SHEEP BELLS RANG CLEARLY IN THE DARK
HE THOUGHT HE HEARD THE STARS SING

PERHAPS THAT'S WHY HIS FATHER
MADE THE SKY GO DARK
BEFORE HE DIED




THE OLD HOUSE

WE FOUND IT DEEP IN THE WOODS
FAR FROM THE PATH
THE RUINS OF THE HOUSE
AND THE OLD STONE FENCE
YOU COULD TELL THE GARDEN
IN THE DIFFERENCE IN TREES
AND BUSHES GONE WILD
THE MOUNTAINEER'S CABIN
HARD BY A STREAM
YOU COULD MARK OFF HIS FIELDS
BY FOLLOWING HIS FENCE
EACH STONE HAND CARRIED TO BUILD IT
AS HE FOUND THEM
ON A SLOOP SO STEEP
YOU COULD PICTURE THEIR SAYING
IF YOU DON'T HOLD ONTO THE PLOW
YOU'LL FALL OUT OF THE FIELD
YOU WONDER WHEN HE BUILT THE HOUSE AND FENCE AND PLOWED
DID HE THINK IT WOULD COME TO THIS
OR DID HE SEE A LINE OF SONS COMING AFTER
LOVING THE LAND AS HE DID
IT DOESN'T REALLY MATTER I SUPPOSE
WHAT COUNTS IS
HE HAD A DREAM
AND TRIED TO MAKE IT REAL



ABSALOM DAVID'S SON



HE COULD REMEMBER HIS SWINGING ON TREES
WATCHING HIM NOW
HANGING FROM THE TREE BY HIS HAIR

HE WISHED HIS FACE WAS LESS CONTORTED
HIS FACE LINES LAUGHTER CAUSED

WHEN THEY TOLD HIM HOW HE DIED
HOW HE SWUNG FROM THE TREE BY HIS HAIR
THE SOLDIERS SPEARS IMPALING
HE ONLY ASKED
DID HE CALL MY NAME

I WOULD NOT WANT HIM DEAD IN ANGER
THIS CHILD OF MINE
WHO TREE CLIMBED OFTEN IN HIS YOUTH
WHO TREE CLIMBED OFTEN AND WOULD CALL
FIND ME IF YOU CAN

WHAT HAPPENED AS HE GREW THAT I LOST MY CHILD
WHAT HAPPENED AS WE GREW THAT I LOST MY CHILD
WHEN DID HE CLIMB DOWN UNHEEDED
AND WENT HIS WAY

DID HE TIRE OF HIDE AND SEEK
WHEN I WOULD NOT PLAY
WHERE DID I LOSE MY SON
WHEN DID THE SILENCE GO TO ANGER
AND THE NEED TO HURT

SO MANY CALLS UPON ME
SO MANY PLACES TO BE
OH ABSALOM
ABSALOM
TREE CLIMBER
MY CHILD
STRANGE FRUIT ON THE TREE
STIFF IN DEATH
AS YOU WERE IN LIFE
I KISS YOUR STILL UNFEELING LIPS


WOULD TO GOD I HAD DIED
WOULD TO GOD I HAD DIED
THAN BE HERE TO WATCH
THE SUN GO DOWN
ON YOUR ANGER
AND YOUR DEATH




METAL FENCE

METAL FENCE WITH GATE DOOR OPEN
STANDING IN A FIELD BEFORE A HOUSE LONG GONE
THE GARDEN OVERGROWN
AND GONE TO SEED IN WINTER
WHAT POSSESSED ME I DO NOT KNOW
TO LEAVE THE ROAD
AND GO AND CLOSE THE GATE
WHOSE GHOSTS DID I WANT TO RESTRAIN
THEIRS OR MINE
WHAT VISIONS OF PARENTHOOD
HOPES
DREAMS
STILL DWELL IN THE GARDEN
STAY CLOSED GATE
I HAVE GHOSTS ENOUGH
OF MY OWN TO KEEP


JOSEPH'S DEATH

IT WAS SUMMER AND THE WINDOWS WERE OPEN
THROUGH THEM HE COULD HEAR THE SOUND OF HOUSEWORK BEING DONE
THE SNATCH OF A SONG THE RUNNING OF WATER
THE SOUND OF A BROOM
IT WAS HOT BUT HE COULDN'T FEEL IT
HIS SHAWL WAS ABOUT HIS SHOULDERS
BUT HIS COLD WASN'T IN THE WEATHER
THE SOUND OF THE BROOM RAN ALL HIS DAYS TOGETHER
SO THAT HE THOUGHT HIMSELF ONCE MORE YOUNG
AND COMING TO CALL FLOWERS FRESHLY PICKED
UPON HIS YOUNG SWEET LOVE
HIS MARY
BUT THEN HIS MEMORY DARKENED
AND HIS BLOOD IN SPITE OF YEARS RAN HOT
ANGER POUNDED IN HIS BRAIN
I AM WITH CHILD
NO A THOUSAND RAVENS CRIED
NO A THOUSAND CROWS REPLIED
PANDEMONIUM OF THUNDER
LIGHTNING FLASH
AND DRIVING RAIN
NO HE CRIED TO NO ONE LISTENING
RACING FROM THE SUMMER STORM
RACING LOSING AND WAS CAUGHT
DRENCHED
THE RAIN RUNNING DOWN HIS FACE MIXING WITH HIS TEARS
NO HE WHISPERED TO THE EARTH
FACE PRESSED DOWN IN SOGGY GRASS
WHY HE SOBBED OH GOD WHY..
BUT NO ANSWER CAME THEN SOMETHING CAME
THE MEMORY OF HER WORDS
REMEMBER I LOVE YOU
HOW QUICK THE STORM
HOW SUDDEN THE SUN'S RETURN
SO THAT THE OLD MAN FELT ONCE MORE ITS HEAT
HE STRUGGLED TO FORM THE WORDS
FROM IN THE HOUSE THE QUESTION
DID YOU CALL
I LOVE YOU
DID YOU CALL
I LOVE YOU
DID YOU CALL
THEN JOSEPH DIED
ON THE DEATH OF A FATHER OF MY FRIEND

I MOURN YOU
THOUGH I NEVER KNEW YOU
I NEVER BOUGHT YOU A BEER
LAUGHED AT YOUR JOKES
OR SHARED YOUR VIEWS
YET I MOURN YOU STILL
FOR YOUR DEATH IS A LOSS TO ONE I LOVE
AND I AM DIMINISHED BY IT
AND SO I MOURN YOU
BUT MORE
FOR YOU SHAPED AND BROUGHT INTO BEING
MY FRIEND
SOMEWHERE IN YOU THEN WAS A GIFT OF BEAUTY
AND THAT MUCH BEAUTY IS NOW GONE
AND I MOURN YOU
NOW YOU SLEEP OUT IN THE RAIN
ALL YOUR ELEMENTS GOING BACK TO GOD
NOW THE SENSE OF LOSS GIVES MY FRIEND PAIN
BUT IN THE SPRING
WHEN CROCUS BUDS PEEK THROUGH THE SNOW
COME BACK
WITH MEMORIES WARM
ALL HARSH THOUGHTS FORGOTTEN
COME BACK WITH MEMORIES OF LAUGHTER
AND MAKE MY HEART-FRIEND
SMILE














THE ULTIMATE IS SILENCE

I THINK PERHAPS THE ULTIMATE IS SILENCE
WHEN ALL LOVE COMES HOME TO GOD TO REST
WHEN WORDS
WHICH DO NOT TELL THE HEART
ARE OVER
I THINK PERHAPS WE SHALL REVERT TO THE BEGINNING
AND WITH A SIGH BREATHE OUT OUR SOULS TO REST
WHEN SPIRIT OF GOD AND LOVE ARE REUNITED
AND SAFELY DWELL FOREVER IN GOD'S BREAST




FRANK A VOLLMER