From 7 Years Ago

Fifth Street Prophet 

We rode in silence
contemplated something now gone
and gave each other smiles
she, daunted with my need
for silence wanting to touch me
me—out of touch and seven miles gone
wanting for epiphany

I parked the car roadside
She looked me questions
“Back soon”
she wasn’t comforted—too concerned
                        best watch him—
devil got him sure ‘nough
I walked to a shabby man on a bench
sat beside him and looked off
where he looked—over there
we shared silence
too soon gone—the moment
can’t go back—or forward
without words and voice

I asked, Which way to wisdom
—here/now  he said
are you a wise man?
—you say
how can one become wise?
—be
how to gather wisdom?
—by the peace
what is the answer?
—what the question?
does heaven exist?
—it has a name
can we get there?
—aren’t we already
what is God’s name?
—what’s yours?
what is the color of love?
—what is color?
how can I make sense of it all?
—why would you?

His words filled me with — everything/nothing
I thanked him and asked what gift he desired
though I knew he required none
—what you have that is most valuable
            his eyes glinted then with laughter
            till now so bland—but now so light
“I understand,” I said, rising, smiling
stood and hugged the old man

Back in the van
she asked me if I knew him
yes/no
—who is he?
an old man
—what’d you say to him?
asked some questions
—what did he tell you?
God’s name
—sure, ok, what is it?
What’s yours
—you know who I am
do I?
—I worry about you
why?
—you’ve been acting strange lately
Oh, I thought it was before
—what was before?
strange behavior
—not compared to now
I see
—aren’t you going to defend yourself?
against what?
—so you concede the argument
Yes
—but Why?
Exactly
—what now?
this
—what?
peace
—what are you talking about?
life/love/god
—what god?
exactly
—ok, you said he told you god’s name
no
—yes, you did; now what is it?
what is your name?
—sometimes I just don’t understand you

wonderful, isn’t it?

David M Pitchford
March 2001