By Mitchell Kooh
I was here. Where were you?
When day was new and night was long. With waters dark as the void in the eye of the storm. The light breaking. Light dying. And Man walked the earth.
Where were you when I laid the foundations? Tell me. When the mourning stars sang together. I already know, but tell me anyhow.
Tell me: who are you to reject me? Who do you think you are? I loved you I made you I saved you. You who cannot see. You were just an afterthought of me. Poor traitor’s kiss and lion’s den.
You were nothing when I was.
Was whole when you were two, three when you were me.
Starlight weaves my tapestry, my lament of fiery blood, shedding white-gold plasma to warm the depths. You sang to me in infancy. My voiceless breath overwhelmed. You loved me as a child, the child of a lonesome cosmos. But then you cursed me on your wedding day, and that long, dark night of the soul. You killed me with a word.
This far you’ve come, and yet no farther. This is where the proud waves stop. That sad old man, grown old and sad before his time. He loved me too, but his love stopped. He could not see the way to light, or where the dark resides. His faith was strong. It wasn’t enough. But he wasn’t lost. Are you?
You hate me now. But who are you? You’re just like him; you’re both like me. But I was more, and you hate me for it. But go on. The fires rage, my body burns and fades a thousand times. You take the cup but fail to sup. Hidden amongst the rubbish and the clutter, you think to escape. You put me in a shoebox, hide me in the closet. You’ll forget me: you already have.
You forgot who bound the chains of Pliedes, or old Orion’s belt. Who lit the stones of Ursa’s eyes, or set her cubs to roam. A dazzling ash, twinkle – and they’re gone. But.
I was I am. I was. You give me tongues to say my name, and I use them all. I was ipsum esse subsistens. I was. Hallelujah I was. And all along, I was here. So where were you?
You le me to die, but mother, can’t you see: I’m not done with you yet. And you answer to me.