The City by the Sea
To those who are guided by a lack of guidance.
A soldier and a holy man went for a stroll one day.
Under the bluest skies they met,
And since neither stroll was finished yet,
They decided it was best if they joined ways.
Said the soldier, “Ah, to find a place to rest my weary feet,
To hide away from death and war,
Causes worth my fighting for:
Oh, that would be a sight I’d gladly greet.”
Said the sage, “Only recognition in my acts upon the earth
Do I wish to find before I pass,
Before I fertilize the grass:
Such answers that I seek would give me mirth.”
The two continued strolling well into the afternoon,
And talked about their hopes and fears,
And listened with empathic ears,
And each hoped the other’d find answers soon.
Down to the shore their stroll did lead,
Under those bluest skies,
And to both of their surprise
They saw a gem beyond the reeds.
Said the holy man, “No jewel, but look, my friend, and see!
If my heed you’ve taken,
And I’m not much mistaken,
We gaze upon a city by the sea!”
“So it is!” The soldier cried,
And both men hastened to their goal,
So quick they fell all in a roll:
For here respite and answers surely lied.
When they came into the city where every stone did shine,
Where each alley, bridge and tower
Seemed to radiate with power,
They felt sure their gazes met with the divine.
“I will claim this land for God, for my country and my king,”
The soldier, helm in hand proudly exclaimed,
“I will render the populous meek and tamed:
My hand, both swift and sure, won’t miss a thing.
With a sword within my hand and self righteousness in my heart
These citizens are finished: I will vanquish my opponents,
Though of my goals and aims they may not be proponents,
Now is as good as any time to start.”
“But no, my friend,” the other said,
“This land clearly is divine;
We must take this as a sign
That God’s will should be read.
It’s with compassion and with guidance that this flock must soon be tended,
For their souls are sinful, dirty, vile:
But they still have time to reconcile
Their faults as God intended.”
The soldier growled “You fool, how can I make you understand
That my cause is just and right,
And your dreams of lofty heights
Have no place in the real worlds, or this land.”
Said the sage, “You are caught up in your sins, and you are raving,
And despite your heathen ways,
I will do as the lord says
And will by any means begin your saving.”
The soldier struck the sage face first into the mud;
The two forgot their land and lord
And with all the strength they could afford,
Tore into one another until the ground was red with blood.
Then the earth began to violently tremble and to shake:
“It’s God’s wrath come to smite you!”
“Or else He’s come to help me fight you!”
And both crown and cross were lost amid the quake.
A girl held fast her treasure: she was little more than three;
She shook her globe, not knowing the men she had condemned,
Seeing glass enclosing towers, all of them like glitt’ring gems.
All too soon disuse and dust would hide that world from you and me:
And there’d be nothing to remember of the city by the sea.
(2013)
This is one of my favorite poems I have written. I have always been against the ideas that come from both organized religion and native patriotism, and I have always found it interesting when those two ideals come together and attempt to coexist. I am equally as interested in the idea of individual and universal perception. What is real? Is that reality different from one person to the next? What if, after billions of years of evolution and war and death and progression (what little there has been thus far) and love and longing and everything else in between, what if this is all a dream, or a painting, or we are on a spec of dust or a snowflake in some bigger, wider world? Would those ideals still matter the same if we knew?
