The true king calling


they fly across the sea
tasting the salt on their ancient tongues
tongues that have tasted all there is to taste
and much more than that
their tongues are black
and fill their mouths
which open
then they scream
until there is no other sound
their sound will be the last sound
sound that will not be silenced
ripping
and tearing
and flying
into a tomorrow
that knows no more than today
and sees only sorrow
and despair
and a rending of garments less then fine
leaving their owners to freeze to death in the cold cold freezing night
they fly
remembering those that were left
standing in the sand
among the almost infinite grains
those that are deep in the desert
far from the jungle
far from the golden king
who stands on a pillar
and cries
come to me
I will set you free
and show you there is a way
out of the darkness
this darkness was not meant to last this long
there has been a mistake
but it can be rectified
it is not too late
I tell you it is not
I offer you deliverance
a path into the light
all I ask is that you believe that I know the secret
and mine is the true way
and that there is no other
and that you have no other belief
and look for no other saviour
there is no other
but they are in the desert
and the last prophet has walked away
and the jungle is on the other side of the world
and they have no knowledge of the jungle
and they are living in fear
and it is getting colder
and colder
and some begin to whisper
that the sun may not rise tomorrow
or on any future day
and indeed we may have seen the last day
this is the desert
there is no water
we have forgotten that we once knew water
the sound of flowing fountains
and the rage of waterfalls
we have ceased to know that we once felt the cool liquid on our skins
and that there was a possibility of refreshment
and a revitalisation of the land
and of our bodies
which without water are beginning to dry up
I cry
I could cry until time was at an end
a sea would surround those that survived me
but the sea would be salt
and therefore of little use
the camels are dying
even their amazing propensity for survival has deserted them
piles of bones rattle in the wind
that has lately come
and is likely never to leave us in peace
as it calls the name of every one of us
and beckons with brittle fingers
calling us
to an increasingly bleak culmination
an end to all our aspirations
an end to the existence of every one of us
but before I go I should try to say a few more words though they will not be many
this is me
I am the one who tells you this
who talks while he still may
and why do I tell you this
there may be none when we are gone
and as I cannot write it is futile anyway
my words die with the last of my kinsmen
our civilisation come to nothing
there will be no record
only empty buildings
there are no trees here
I once saw trees
but cannot remember if they were in a dream
or in the ground I walked upon
I am becoming confused
those that were capable have flown
left us here
to a death through lack of water
they could leave because they grew wings
in the last days
in the days before today
we are left here
with fast dissolving memories
and the inevitability of decay
I look through the eyes of a skull
grinning in anticipation
of his meeting with the future
a future that has chosen not to require our existence
they have flown away
to the sea
and beyond
and are searching for a new home
a new place
to establish their ancient ways
to open their souls
and close their eyes
and pray
that what was previously seen as dissent
may now be established
as the only truth
they are searching for the jungle
for the land of trees
for the heat
and the rain
for the torrent
and the monsoon
there was a reason that they were given wings
there is a great purpose to their flight
from the dying land
they sing of the future
and think with one mind
of the wonders that they have yet to create
as they throw fire from their fingers
with a force they did not previously possess
something has been given to them
and it was not given for no reason
indeed
they start to be one with the greater consciousness
that watches all
and manipulates
unable to leave the lesser beings to their own small devices
unable to stay his mighty hand
temptation can lead us all astray
and his is a case no different
he called
to the few
and showed them the path
to the light
the way to the jungle
over the sea
countless oceans
and many days travelling after that
they came without hesitation
they were not offered a choice
but impelled
to stand
and sing
as the wings grew
on their backs
creating an irreparable separation
from the rest of their kind
who remained wingless
and now wait for nothing
but for death
in the cold
of the desert
dry
in endless night
they fly on
and they are fast forgetting
their previous existence
in their quest
for the one true king
the king of light
deep within the jungle
on his golden pedestal
gleaming in the sun
calling
calling himself the one true king
the one true god
never suspecting
or allowing himself to imagine
that any other
could dare to assume that title
there are no other gods
in his universe
he it was
he chooses to think
that created the desert
stripped the trees from the ground
and left it less than barren
he it was
that banished the sea
and sent it far away
from the land of sand
he it was
that called the wind
to be a witness
to the dying days
of a civilisation
once the greatest
soon to be forgotten
and he smiles
at all he has achieved
at his demonstration of omnipotence
but he was selective
did not offer universal salvation
and compelled those that were allowed
to hear his message
to do no other than obey
obey the call
of the one true god
the holy king
the fingers of those flying
throw down a rain of fire
on any
that happen
to exist
under their chosen path
countless peoples face extinction
they think the world may end
and pray to a god
who they believe has deserted them
they hear the singing
far above
the black tongues
in unison
venerating the god
who waits
with not one single doubt
of his own omnipotence
standing among the trees
in the place they now see
projected as a holy vision
the place that will be
their final destination
the place that will be
the last place
when it is at an end
then will be
the end of time
an end to everything
this may be beyond your imagination
but that will not prevent
what must occur
you turn away
and refuse to believe
this is just a story
just the recollection of a foolish dream
let us not dwell on these dark thoughts
these terrifying images
they are merely an aberration
we live in the light
and there is no possibility
that we will ever see anything
other than light
to do so
would be to deny
the word
of the one true god
and that we cannot do
we are not given the choice
we have few opportunities for choice
and we are told
that this is how it should be
this is how it must be
to question this
would be to walk in darkness
away from the light
with no possibility of return
so we accept our lack of choice
and remain in the light
blindly
from day to day
and year to year
but last night
I heard singing
it came from the sky
I heard the name of another god
and then came fire
it fell upon us
only I am left
last night was no dream
I am alone
all others are gone
gone to be with the great one
or so he would have me believe
I heard the sound of wings
mingled with the singing
I too have wings
but have never flown
perhaps today is the day
to put my wings to use
and join those
that are now gone
but who brought an end
to my sweet community
slaughtered every last one
but me
perhaps now is the time
to follow
and do what
I do not look for vengeance
I merely look for answers
I will seek a truth
that now is only known to others
the true god deserted us
he let my people die
his cannot be the greatest power
there is another
the wings must fly
in his direction
and I will follow
if this should be a dream
and I should wake
then so be it
there is little
that would bring me
greater joy
but I know
as far as I am capable of knowing
that this is no dream
and so
it is time to depart
leaving all that is familiar
and to plunge
into the great dark
in search
of a greater light
my wings are strong
and ready
for a test of strength
they will take me
far beyond the beyond
it is time


Summer 1995

James Holbrook