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An Obligation

She is present, and moves among us.
In guileless fathoms.
Belatedly, serene, and indifferent as the ocean floor
receiving a drowned man’s coin.

She will not testify, will not deny,
harbors no one, exiles none,
washes from no cove we know,
calls from no known window.

Tires, ankles, hooves have worn.
The road remains.
She asks no one to seek it,
not one yet can speak of it.

This is a world of spells and curses.
Filled with broken wings. Wake up.
Wonder is the one event,
no soul survives no wonderment.

Titans come. Titans go.
No beast is given true grave.
Little girls sing little songs,
and little boys must play along.

Nothing in us echoes the condor’s span.
Our hearts ache.
We cannot sustain our wonder,
are not relieved of rain by thunder.

She is present and moves among us.
In guileless fathoms.
Belatedly, serene, and indifferent as the ocean floor
receiving a drowned man’s coin.

As I am troubled, so I move to the good,
as I am forgotten, so must I remember.
As I am troubled, so I move to the good.
My work is to remember.

- Jim Gislason