I have touched the age
where it is easy, or perhaps as easy, to part with the departed as well as with the living—
That said,
part of my life shall stay behind with you, my dear old High School Alumni, old
friends!
And here
is that tribute to that end.
Now that I
see that my life is in the wintery season of God’s prearranged years, I realize
how preoccupied, how pensive, how pondering it has been.
I’ve taken
to rethinking the journals in my mind of those High School years and days so
long ago—
As now it
is the 50th Anniversary Year, and a forthcoming reunion but a few
steps away…
To an old
man’s weakness, I`ve learned: pain, love, fear, God, hunger, things that cannot
be learned in books, or by hearsay, but experienced, practiced, expressed; by,
travel, fortitude, and perseverance!
I’ve
learned the long way—for some things take time, such as understanding the human
failings of others, and mine!
And surely
you have too!
To act
instead of reacting, to my thinking, not my feelings—
To focus
on the good and clean in the world, not all is contaminated!
By not
judging another’s sin, if not knowing its cause!
And I’ve
learned them quite well, as perhaps many of us have.
And as
they say, the hard way!
Always for
me, in my younger day, the hard way.
How vain
it is for me to think anyone should remember me, from those far-off days,
perhaps a few!
Where fell
tenderly in my youth, a rain of life, where now falls the shadow of death, and
a few last requests
I hope no
more regrets!
The
trophies and the nobler spoils of time I leave behind.
How does
one say, I’m still here I hope you are! Knowing so well, so many have gone!
So many
voices crying from the dust.
Not all as
of old, but some with the blaze of steel from war long ago, and the voice of
war’s command, takes precedence!
I have
been there, and beheld the deathless star upon the brows of men.
And whose
streets with tears are wet, from the dark and cruel state of some untimely
death, those once we knew from High School:
Dying
before their time, whose light they craved, ere, now a world away: yet set
free, save they have found their way, by and by, through the true vine where
every branch He purgeth, has beareth fruit, and brings forth more fruit!
Alas! How
distant they are to us, to us watchers of the past!
Left
behind, to celebrate our once memorable youth, and their once earthly presence
too… I give to them with earnest, the
laurels from my brow!
As the
branch cannot bear fruit of itself, without the vine, lest he not be withered
and cast into the fire…?
Thus, I
pray He abideth in me, and I in him, so I can bring honor unto them—
Lo! In
what shadowy and mysterious ways we all went on to our allotted ways; O to
those everlasting gates, those once far-off gates we so longed to chase:
For a
fairer day that waits, for new splendors and dawns, selfish bonds, waiting for
love to be, and sometimes unfound, only to be set free to search again! And
sometimes to no end!
Living from
one season to another beyond seasons of dismay, seeking always seeking God’s
bountiful grace—
As if in a
race!
I for one
see life brief, broken and imposing, as if hastening to its end, with tales to
tell:
At times
swineherd drinking, rooted in my youth sly and shy, and light with my thighs,
chasing milk skinned fleshly women, by the moon-shade light, hissing like a
viper for wayside brides!
At times
too blunt, like a fox an ox, with a pretext:
After
butterfat goose-shaped girls, with breasts full of honey, snout blunt and drunk in a uproar vomiting out my youth:
Quick at
love, and so I was until I found my just pilgrimage.
And
perhaps, so many of us were, not so unlike the white owl who searches the
night, for the worm, the bird or the mouse, claws that could rip out a throat,
to swallow up and spit out: under a dipping moon, high as a kite, like a
dropped camel, with a twisted leg.
To such
sultry biding ways, I SAY, Oh, time enough, those memories creep cold that was
when I had a coal black, black soul!
That was
when I was half a man, and then some: sizzling, gusty young man, the other part
was all beast.
Never
dying for a woman, but simmering like a calf in milky grass, but always finding
a cat in the flame.
I for one
see life long, long enough, if you have lived enough.
Not
waiting for tomorrow, yet awaiting a dream that shall not altogether die,
before I die, to awake to my divine journey
—but we
often get lost along the way, as I did, then found to follow one’s dream, once
again!
If indeed,
God permits!
The Dream,
a lament, to find it I had to tiptoe shy in the telltale woods, and I could not find it until I was a gusty near middle-aged man and a half,
where I slapped the rude owl from its branch and he seesawed down to the
ground, I wooed his wicked eyes, for he was a demon in disguise, who had
followed me half my life—
But I had
learned in life how to track his fiery prints.
Once
leaned, never forgotten!
And once
found dispensed of him: to earth, air, water, and fire with some miracle
muscle, and a prayer, and there I saw him this hunchbacked, lulled black ghoul,
with dingle-torn eyes hanging deep in dark-spacious ebon framed, cold
lifeless sockets, —
Sockets
with expanse, and no gleam of light…
They
contained no heat, there he stood until crock-crow in midair, soaring out my
window, cawing for his lost home!
And then
he evaporated as if into some willy-nilly, williwaw dew!
Into some
muster seed in some mildew meadow…
Strange to
say, but I shall, have we not all been between the devil and the deep sea?
Stuck in a
desperate strait?
Where God,
or his seraph steps in, whispers: “No more …pretense, it’s time for the truth,
no avoiding the issue, —lest, ay!” And
that ay! …is deep regret!
And
sometimes we listen, and sometimes not, and sometimes we doubt and seem not to
be able to control it!
Especially
standing at an empty threshold, the unknown, until the door is pushed open and
we are shown absoluteness—
All such
things we must go through, after we leave High School!
Wherein,
there wasn’t any guessing back then.
Yes, I’ve
seen enough of the devil, and perhaps so have you.
Some of us
have reached beyond our dreams, with Almighty God’s blessings, I have tried,
reaching pinnacles against the dawn! Did I say ‘tried?’ I have reached them.
Going
beyond our limits, for we came out of a daring age.
Now,
seeing how small we are in the greater plan,
— Now with
age, we must draw up against the Night our last plan, or forever plight, if I
dare call it that!
Each face
facing the best-beloved’s face.
And let me
end this poem by saying: to watchers of the past,
Be ye
lifted up, for a fairer day awaits.
For on
this short day we will surely sail, liken to ship-shaped clouds, with guardian
angels, forever and day, by all the vows given by the King of Kings…
—to the ignited
mount, by Heaven’s gates, to be judged and weighed, —once called Calvary!
No: 4756/4-2 & 3-2015 © All
Rights Reserved by: Dlsiluk
Drawing by the author2014 © Dennis L.
Siluk Dr. h.c.
Note: This poem is a tribute by the
author to his longtime schoolmates, of 1965, it is not associated, nor does it
represent the feelings or ideas in any way with anyone other than himself, to
include: organizations, or planning of the forthcoming event for the ‘50th
Anniversary Reunion of Washington High School, 1965’ St. Paul, Minnesota’ due
in September, of 2015. This is a private work of the Poet Laureate, Dr. Dennis
L. Siluk, and is independent of any group.
