As megavolt spark etches its questing zigzag on ink-black sky;
As negative reaches for positive in its cloudy embrace,
So, my spirit reaches out to You, the Infinite Positive.
I desire the rest and resolution of that crashing, crackling encounter;
That thunderous moment of earth and heaven;
That infinite explosion of human and divine;
That blessed neutralizing of aching desire within:
That always and never satisfied longing for union with You.
1/2410
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Enemy
Behind me, the snap of a dry twig; He found me, again. Scrambling to my feet, dumping the pot of boiling soup into the flames, a faint, vain hope of concealment, I fled into the dark. No time to collect gear. No need, now. ranches and brambles reached, clawed, snatched. My headlong run ended in cascading dirt and stones as I stepped into nothingness and plunged to the bottom of a shallow ravine, this new pain added to the bone-weary ache of every muscle and joint accumulated over the weeks of flight from his pursuit.
The voice of my enemy, distant, clear in thin mountain air called my name. No escape. Never have I faced such persistence, such patient pursuit, such singleness of purpose. I knew then that I would die. The realization turned molten fear into cold hard resolve. I determined to kill or be killed, a trapped animal, hunted to the extremes of endurance and cornered. Death, now, the only solution, the only outcome, one or the other of us.
I tried to focus, to push through the fear, the panic, to a clear plan. But, fear-hazed, my mind scrabbled for rational thought. Failing, instinct reigned; mindless flight its only response. I picked myself from the rocky rubble and, pushing through the pain of a sprained ankle, ran, heedless of direction or object.
Slowly, rational thought displaced panic. Caution imposed her will, shaping terror into plan and direction. Awareness returned; I listened for the smallest sound.
A dry creek bed snaked around boulders and granite banks, its sandy bottom a convenient path. Then pebbles grated between shoe and stone. I froze. silently removing my boots, I tied the laces together and slung the balanced weight over my shoulder. Let his tracking skills be his death.
With infinite care, I placed each foot exactly where I wanted it. I could not hear my own footfall.
A quarter mile away, I heard the crash of his body, carried to me on the soft midnight breeze. Good, he fell into the ravine too. I treasured the thought of his pain.
Adding speed to my caution, I ran, knowing it would take him precious minutes to regain his breath. The ravine narrowed and ran out. Which way now? Over the bedrock to the right; Harder to track. Maybe it will slow him.
In the clear now, free of tree shadows, I moved more quickly. But, he trailing, would have the same advantage. I limped into the dark of a grove of trees and paused to listen. Faint but unmistakable, almost as if he wanted me to hear his approach, the scratch of boot on stone carried across the distance. Dim in faint moonlight, I saw him. His eyes fixed on me, he trod the uneven ground, unhurried but relentless.
Desperation became the mother of resourcefulness: I levered an overhanging boulder into a finely balanced weight with a weather-hardened branch. I wedged it beneath the boulder as a trigger then tied my shoelaces to it and stretched their combined length to a wind-carved cedar growing out of a crevice. I tugged on the laces and felt the tension, Knowing it would work.
The crash of the boulder and the cry of pain repaid me for the expended time. I hurried on.
I plunged into the darkness heedless of the pain of sticks and needles tearing at the soles of my feet. The terrain sloped downward and I took advantage of the ease of travel to gain distance. Confidence seeped back, a small reservoir of energy. I could outwit him, if I couldn’t outrun him. My body took over. Pushing through the exhaustion, I fled.
I Stopped, listening, thinking the boulder must surely have crushed his leg, but the crunch of leather on dry evergreen needles told me it was a vain wish. I ran. Hope waned.
A fallen tree, suspended over the trail, blocked my flight. Leaning on it as I ducked under, I felt it move. In urgent haste I scrambled toward the base following the barkless trunk. My fingers scrabbled around and found what I desperately wanted. Wind broken, it balanced, precariously, held by a few heart fibers, against a living tree, across the intervening gap.
I waited willing my panting to slow, my frantic heart to gain a normal rhythm. An eternity passed. His steady footfall sounded, unhurried, relentless. “Almost as if night and day are the same to him,” I thought in fresh panic. I calmed myself with effort and waited. I would have no second chance.
His footsteps sounded loud, now, on the still mountain air. Closer and yet closer they came. A darker shadow loomed against the opaque black of the forest.
I heaved with all my remaining strength.
His scream of pain was music to my ears. Then silence.
I ran on, afraid to look. Then footsteps behind me, limping now. I wept in an agony of fear and frustration.
Pushing against the limits of bodily endurance, fleeing blind, I ran into solid rock. Stretching, reaching, searching for a clue to my next move, I crabbed left then right. No escape. Slumping to the ground, I despaired, nothing left to go on and nowhere left to go.
The sound of his limping footsteps roused me. Searching for some weapon, some defense, I found, at the extreme limit of my reach, a heavy branch, weather-hardened and gnarled. Waiting, I hid behind an outcrop of rock.
He called my name, enquiring.
I struck with every muscle, with every ounce of reserve strength, born of fear and fueled by desperation. Wood crunched bone and I heard with infinite satisfaction and overwhelming relief the thud of his body on hard stone.
Kneeling over his body, I tested, probed. He did not stir. It was too dark to see clearly. Sagging to the ground beside him, I fell, instantly, into the near-coma of exhausted sleep.
Full noonday heat wakened me. I turned his cold, stiff body over and looked into the face of my implacable foe, my determined pursuer, my saving impediment.
Looking past his dead body, staring, horrified, into the thousand-foot drop two steps beyond my next fleeing step; my last step in darkness; my last step; the one he kept me from taking; the one he took for me.
7/99
The voice of my enemy, distant, clear in thin mountain air called my name. No escape. Never have I faced such persistence, such patient pursuit, such singleness of purpose. I knew then that I would die. The realization turned molten fear into cold hard resolve. I determined to kill or be killed, a trapped animal, hunted to the extremes of endurance and cornered. Death, now, the only solution, the only outcome, one or the other of us.
I tried to focus, to push through the fear, the panic, to a clear plan. But, fear-hazed, my mind scrabbled for rational thought. Failing, instinct reigned; mindless flight its only response. I picked myself from the rocky rubble and, pushing through the pain of a sprained ankle, ran, heedless of direction or object.
Slowly, rational thought displaced panic. Caution imposed her will, shaping terror into plan and direction. Awareness returned; I listened for the smallest sound.
A dry creek bed snaked around boulders and granite banks, its sandy bottom a convenient path. Then pebbles grated between shoe and stone. I froze. silently removing my boots, I tied the laces together and slung the balanced weight over my shoulder. Let his tracking skills be his death.
With infinite care, I placed each foot exactly where I wanted it. I could not hear my own footfall.
A quarter mile away, I heard the crash of his body, carried to me on the soft midnight breeze. Good, he fell into the ravine too. I treasured the thought of his pain.
Adding speed to my caution, I ran, knowing it would take him precious minutes to regain his breath. The ravine narrowed and ran out. Which way now? Over the bedrock to the right; Harder to track. Maybe it will slow him.
In the clear now, free of tree shadows, I moved more quickly. But, he trailing, would have the same advantage. I limped into the dark of a grove of trees and paused to listen. Faint but unmistakable, almost as if he wanted me to hear his approach, the scratch of boot on stone carried across the distance. Dim in faint moonlight, I saw him. His eyes fixed on me, he trod the uneven ground, unhurried but relentless.
Desperation became the mother of resourcefulness: I levered an overhanging boulder into a finely balanced weight with a weather-hardened branch. I wedged it beneath the boulder as a trigger then tied my shoelaces to it and stretched their combined length to a wind-carved cedar growing out of a crevice. I tugged on the laces and felt the tension, Knowing it would work.
The crash of the boulder and the cry of pain repaid me for the expended time. I hurried on.
I plunged into the darkness heedless of the pain of sticks and needles tearing at the soles of my feet. The terrain sloped downward and I took advantage of the ease of travel to gain distance. Confidence seeped back, a small reservoir of energy. I could outwit him, if I couldn’t outrun him. My body took over. Pushing through the exhaustion, I fled.
I Stopped, listening, thinking the boulder must surely have crushed his leg, but the crunch of leather on dry evergreen needles told me it was a vain wish. I ran. Hope waned.
A fallen tree, suspended over the trail, blocked my flight. Leaning on it as I ducked under, I felt it move. In urgent haste I scrambled toward the base following the barkless trunk. My fingers scrabbled around and found what I desperately wanted. Wind broken, it balanced, precariously, held by a few heart fibers, against a living tree, across the intervening gap.
I waited willing my panting to slow, my frantic heart to gain a normal rhythm. An eternity passed. His steady footfall sounded, unhurried, relentless. “Almost as if night and day are the same to him,” I thought in fresh panic. I calmed myself with effort and waited. I would have no second chance.
His footsteps sounded loud, now, on the still mountain air. Closer and yet closer they came. A darker shadow loomed against the opaque black of the forest.
I heaved with all my remaining strength.
His scream of pain was music to my ears. Then silence.
I ran on, afraid to look. Then footsteps behind me, limping now. I wept in an agony of fear and frustration.
Pushing against the limits of bodily endurance, fleeing blind, I ran into solid rock. Stretching, reaching, searching for a clue to my next move, I crabbed left then right. No escape. Slumping to the ground, I despaired, nothing left to go on and nowhere left to go.
The sound of his limping footsteps roused me. Searching for some weapon, some defense, I found, at the extreme limit of my reach, a heavy branch, weather-hardened and gnarled. Waiting, I hid behind an outcrop of rock.
He called my name, enquiring.
I struck with every muscle, with every ounce of reserve strength, born of fear and fueled by desperation. Wood crunched bone and I heard with infinite satisfaction and overwhelming relief the thud of his body on hard stone.
Kneeling over his body, I tested, probed. He did not stir. It was too dark to see clearly. Sagging to the ground beside him, I fell, instantly, into the near-coma of exhausted sleep.
Full noonday heat wakened me. I turned his cold, stiff body over and looked into the face of my implacable foe, my determined pursuer, my saving impediment.
Looking past his dead body, staring, horrified, into the thousand-foot drop two steps beyond my next fleeing step; my last step in darkness; my last step; the one he kept me from taking; the one he took for me.
7/99
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