Falling off the Cliff
Fred Houpt
[boyboy_8@yahoo.com]
Having spent so much effort to climb
This mountain and having reached the top
It surprised me how easy it was to fall off
And yet I am going where I want to go
The fall is both in slow and fast motion
As I twist and turn like a fresh leaf, full of sap
Slow for me to see and fast to take my breath away
And yet I am going where I want to go
I am inclined against the sun and the moon
And I remind them of their broken promises
But they turn away and chastise me as the rebel
And yet I am going where I want to go
I have enough time to call out to Him as I plummet.
His Name I call in endless shouts; I wait for the echo
The voice returns to me and it is that of the crow.
And yet I am going where I want to go
Certainly the ground will open up for me and I will pass
Or perhaps I will impact it like a destroying meteor
Taking all my enemies with me in my final act
And yet I am going to where I want to go
I have less arguments with the lark, lamb and dove.
Even now I laugh at the golden calf and the sultry dance
The images of mercy evaporate away like roasted tears
And yet I am going to where I want to go
Just where is it that I am going to on this liquid rush of wind?
Have I been shot out of a lava dome, all sure of purpose
Or was I shot out of the gun that I spent a lifetime pointing?
And yet I am going to where I want to go
The fall is slow enough that I see myself in the company of soldiers
I am wearing so many different coats and speaking many languages
But they are all the same and they bear the same rage-full commands
And yet I am going to where I want to go
I have time to haul out my long scroll of accusations that I have kept
This holy of holies that I have maintained as a substitute religion
I hope to catch the Accuser at His own game and beat him to the punch
And yet I am going to where I want to go
It is not with pride or arrogance that I hurtle forward
As this was the only way to find the end of a death in life
I shout out to Socrates that he drank when he should have jumped
And yet I am going to where I want to go
I am getting even more enraged that I have not hit the target yet
Perhaps the mountain was not high or my contempt enough
After all, it was my cliff to leap from and no one pushed me
And yet I am going to where I want to go
I do not want to hear the lamentations of the survivors
The words of the eulogies are false, the implications imprecise
I want the fall to take me through all the way to the other side
And yet I am not so sure I know where I am going.
But it is too late; His arms have already come up to catch me
My tears he wipes away, His voice has spoken and I am silenced
With the impact of my meeting the target.
Poem © 2000 Fred Houpt, all rights reserved
appears here by permission
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