It
has been a while since they gathered at the Cross Roads.
The
silence has grown old and stubbly.
The overhang of trees shows no signs of leaf or life.
A shoe lies under a thick mound of dust.
In the distance I hear the faint whisperings of the Carillon.
The overhang of trees shows no signs of leaf or life.
A shoe lies under a thick mound of dust.
In the distance I hear the faint whisperings of the Carillon.
Or
is it just my imagination?
The gloom is leaking from my throat.
The gloom is leaking from my throat.
The
desolation is rusting all over the stones.
I sit and wonder when someone will come to cross at the Cross Roads.
I sit and wonder when someone will come to cross at the Cross Roads.
It
has been a while.
But
not that long a while, for I notice from the
dark mouth
of the cave the Cave-Dweller comes stumbling
with his hands sheltering his eyes from the fierce sunlight.
Clearly he has not been outside for days.
My cheeriness suddenly springs onto its haunches
of the cave the Cave-Dweller comes stumbling
with his hands sheltering his eyes from the fierce sunlight.
Clearly he has not been outside for days.
My cheeriness suddenly springs onto its haunches
and
runs to greet him with fierce hugging and interminable questions.
“Hang
on, darling! Give a man the space to adapt to the light again!”
I am profusing apologies on him which does
not improve his state of mind.
not improve his state of mind.
“Who
is making such a rabble-rousing-fuss up there?”
I make out the voice of the Loner.
He is peaking his head from the overhang of trees.
I make out the voice of the Loner.
He is peaking his head from the overhang of trees.
“Why
could I not see you under the trees?” I ask with concern falling
like
guava pips from my mouth.
“It happens that a Loner becomes invisible to those who has
no care for lonesomeness in this world” he retorts quite huffishly.
“It happens that a Loner becomes invisible to those who has
no care for lonesomeness in this world” he retorts quite huffishly.
The
Cave-Dweller appearing stronger against the glaring light of day
seems
to grow stronger too in cheeky bravado “Oh, do not think that
you
can monopolise loneliness Mister Loner. We all have little bits
of
forsakeness hiding in our solitary bones.
Do not take it all on your own shoulders.”
Do not take it all on your own shoulders.”
A
sudden gust of wind blows over the plains and I notice the dusty shoe.
Knowing
what my questions will be, the Loner answers
“No,
it is not my shoe, and no, I do not know where the other shoe is.”
The
Cave-Dweller showing an uncharacteristic
interest in the conversation
interest in the conversation
walks
towards the Loner and the overhang of trees
and lifts a few branches to see more clearly
what state the space was in.
and lifts a few branches to see more clearly
what state the space was in.
“Oeeigh, my cave is a palace compared
to this dingy dust hole.”
My
ears begin to ring. I feel a heated altercation rapidly on its way.
I
turn quietly around and head for the crossing.
I thought I missed these fellows, but now I just want
the sweet silence to return.
I thought I missed these fellows, but now I just want
the sweet silence to return.
This
time the Carillon rings audibly and relieves my ringing ears.
“For
as long as you sit at the Cross Roads, you will not find silence.”
chimes
the Carillon. “I have craved it since I was born, but soon realised
I
make the biggest clamouring racket on these plains.
The irony is that no one takes notice of me anymore."
The irony is that no one takes notice of me anymore."
“I
still hear you.” I say “It is your ringing that keeps luring me
back to the Cross Roads.”
back to the Cross Roads.”
Not
thinking that it is possible for a carillon to snort and snigger,
I hear the Carillon snorting and sniggering
“You only say that to smear honey around my bells.”
The links to the previous seven Cross Roads poems >
I hear the Carillon snorting and sniggering
“You only say that to smear honey around my bells.”
The links to the previous seven Cross Roads poems >
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