Such efferendum would we call, how cruel his name, let it be a sun that spills the flame! I cupped so much in such little hands, that I could give the water to house the trout, and such a space to house the duclkling. This smiled, and then they grew. That was how I named them. I named them Baraka, and he was indeed most celebrated. And Da, how agreeable! This was how I came to forget their origin; who their parents were, if any. Such are the ways of nature, we are blind to forces bereft but spare no effort to what is left to fend. So, these years had come so fast! I was only just married, and my wife had given me the pond from her father’s own funds to give such beauties their space to thrive. I do not promise much, and I had so much to offer. So we breathed into our home their life and into their lives our space. That was what we decided, and all rains come new had pledged allegiance to a pond refilled. Let the walkers side the pond in our garden; they would look and ponder what was on it and what was in it. You can tell from where their eyes guided. All the skies would bright and close, then all the stars would blink and throw; then all the hills dark and hasten a turn. Except I gave no turn to my decision what ought be here. I simply thought, counted to five, and then began the effort. Those very five seconds were enough to give life.
I retreated and forgot about them due to my own illness; how creeping it was. I soaked my own cheeks in tears, and lost too much to care for much. All the world then sunk in dismay and the beating hearts once I knew had grown to abyss and Hades smiled. I looped through the creases of flesh, and drew myself a stronger man; but to not avail! Oh, I sunk myself into the world and then never a lark would cheer. That was how the grass overgrew, and the tree drooped in weight; the roses grew wild and all moss became anew. If sadness could proclaim new territory, let it be the tendons that hold me near; for I have given none to what I cannot bear. Or are all such sonnets I had written previously to no avail, where none would read and none would feel? So I had stopped writing, and promised myself never to write. So the publishers threw my books back at me (in the most polite way possible) and gave liege my hour is struck, so no paper be strewn, nor pixel rendered and all the hours by thought and song had given lease to idleness confide.
At this point, I stopped speaking altogether; if words could not describe me nothing else will. So I pulled down the curtains and draped myself in what I had, for I care little for the world but seek God’s help in what I can offer in the loneliest years ahead. Much to my surprise, Baraka and Da remained. They enjoyed their time, and I love them as my own children. Laugh if you will; but I say it again: I love them; and I admit I forgot about them. So much so their bubbling and quacking is but muse for words to my heart. Such is therapy to my heart as all loss left at that moment. I derived the poem that they spoke to me with, and I was never the same again:
Water and air, how free and flowing! Such beauty in and fealty about! Our eyes constant in and out, What tears swept, let it mix around, Nor shall air grow salt by morning! Then all your suffering be rejoiced, As the muses stand in new ground, Live and thrive! So are plants in war, Then your eyes shall beat yea loud, As all life prays for new kiss growing!
How sweet a melody! And why wouldn’t I have heard it sooner! So too my ignorance fouled; O Lord you are most testing! I shall send them to freedom and give them their plea ordained. So I took them to the nearest lake in a park not far from here, and with a crate for Baraka and Da, filled with water. I could have filled half with my own tears, but kept walking with it anyway. Oh, let weight become me! I have fouled, and I neglected! So let this be my second birth; let that cord be cut and my degree be life anew! I dropped the each and bed them farewell. So haste to happiness! So I haste to meaning! I haste to the purpose; let lone my happiness. I haste to all things meaningful! O family, I give you my fealty anew; and I cannot promise much but I shall meet in due course! Give my childhood its nearest lense; give that gaze. So I looked back at childhood and looked what I enjoyed and didn’t, then I found what I needed. Oh yes! I forgot it then I remembered; and now there’s little else!
O Lord, You are the Best of Testers and Most Patient!