Four Window Wonders (Proverbs 30:18-19)

Other than two Aspirin, last night murdered me

I awoke, grabbed some tea

  Stepped into the study, ready to write

Sitting, I teared up, glancing out

  About our backyard, about the fields

Then it all whisked away

  Washed away my ribboned eyes

from blue to white

   from night to light

In that wash of purity

  In that veil of tears

I lost grip of my desk

  My pen fell from my hand

I left

  Though I didn’t mean to leave

I left

  Toward someone singing:

“Come one, come all

  Come run or crawl

To gorge the feast

  For Bride is ready”

An angel?  Maybe, but

  Running’s no option

Though crawling came easy

Hands & knees & shoulders babied through

  Cracked paint on a 

  White sill

I was met by the whisper of wings

The flapping of feathers of feathery things

No angel

Sweet angel

An angel?  Maybe, but 

He looked more like a parrot.

Green bird sat on my shoulder

Nodding, twitching, looking at me

Saying:

“Come, you!  Come true

  Oh sweet song of life!

Come through for you

  Come eat of the vine!”

He flew off, 

Blasted rhyming bird

But am I not like him?

Am I not one to find him?

Stepping on the blanket grass

My toes were talons

My arms would then flap

Off I flew to find the bird

Three things, too wonderful

Four I can’t fathom

I saw all three

Then the fourth came free

Three too wonderful for me; 

Four I don’t get

And I saw all, saw all through the sill.

I flew to the clouds ‘tween the rain and bright day

There saw an eagle to soar in the sky

Majestic, delectable – simple am I 

Too great for me is the eagle

I came to a valley of death 

Of sand, sandstorms, and meth

Of wretched begginings, sour ends

And dehydration

There met a serpent

Snake under rocks

He hid, then talked, then hid to stalk

Too great for me was that serpent

Left I to the seas

High seas!  Dry seas!

Left I to go see a sunk ship on the sea

No wreckage, no blunder,

Just lightning or thunder

One lone captain’s vessel would master those seas

And I

I’m incomparable to ships on high seas

Came I to the windowsill

Left the bird form

Song of the green one fresh at the door:

“Come one, come all

  Come honeymoon

The bride lay here

The bride and groom”

And on my wedding night I saw 

The fourth thing I cannot recall

Three things too wonderful

Four I can’t see

An eagle in flight

Snakes hid in rock

Ships by high seas

And the way of that virgin, 

that virgin with me.

Author: Lancelot Schaubert

Lancelot Schaubert has sold his written work to markets like The New Haven Review, McSweeney’s, The Poet’s Market, Writer’s Digest (magazine and books), Poker Pro, Encounter, The Misty Review, Carnival, Brink, and many other similar markets. He reinvented the photonovel through Cold Brewed and was commissioned by the Missouri Tourism Board to create a second photonovel — The Joplin Undercurrent — that both fictionalizes and enchants the history and culture of Joplin, Missouri. His work terraforms new worlds, tears the veil between the natural and supernatural, and jests with the paradoxes of classical metaphysics. When he’s not writing (or tinkering with cinema-ish narrative), he’s dabbling in dozens of different books, listening to people tell their life stories, camping, fishing, exploring unfamiliar territory (there’s a lot in New York), tinkering with new languages (Spanish, currently), exploring random disciplines like chemical engineering, as well as messing around with improv comedy (at UCB) and leisure de main and music. PLEASE SEND SOUP — he loves soup. Yes, even if it’s summer. Find him in Brooklyn, New York with his wife, Tara, and their attack spaniel, Echo.

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