when the sick lay weeping
it didn’t matter who said what
or why or when or where
none of that mattered
when the sick lay weeping
and the healthy were joyous
they sprang up together
out of the trees
out of the woods
out of the flowers
out of the moons
they said
we knew it all along!
we knew it would be like this
we knew it could be like this.
they frolicked and they cried
their tears sprang forth more life
they cried and they cried
in deep joy
for the wellness of the earth
for the merriment of their hearts.
their tears
brought forth waters
brought forth canoes
brought forth music
they sang and they cried
in mighty health and mighty joy
they sang for the sick
they wept for the poor
they cried for the tragedies
overladen
on earth
the sick lay weeping
they cried by their lonesome
they kept journals about their loneliness
they read books by their lonesome
they cried about how tragic
everything
ever was
and is
and will be
forever
and always
they said
it will never get better
they said
it will always be
this horrible filthy mess
this burial of survivors
it will always be sick with scum
and muck
always
and they wept like that
all alone
sick and sad
they wept
about the horridness
of everything
while the healthy jumped for joy
over the very same everything
they leapt when they wept
they hugged when they cried
they begged for mercy
they begged for more
they wanted everything
they wanted it all
and to them,
all came,
like the thundering wind,
the cloudless night,
and the trees began to shake
so that dirt
flung from their roots
as they rose
higher and higher
into the sky.
it was a marvelous thing
to watch the monkeys
grasping onto the trees
as they rose right up into the sun.
they were the only ones
who could think
fast enough,
decide quick enough,
to hold on,
which they did.
everyone watched, too.
that was part of the marvel of it.
they saw the tree rising up,
shaking the dirt from the ground,
vibrating the earth
between the crusts
of where it hugged
the underground.
the nests and branches
shook down slowly
while the sky parted
and everyone thought differently of it.
everyone cried, certainly.
but they all thought differently,
this time not of the other group,
but of every other individual.
they became so much more divided,
in that way,
of becoming so united
over the earth shattering her papermakers
disrupting their minds
consolidating their futures.
it wasn’t so easy to assume people were different
between their motives,
experiences,
desires,
dreams,
hopes,
and personally perceived failures.
they didn’t know it could be so personal.
a lot of people thought
they were right,
you see?
each one justified
in her or her domain
began to marvel at something greater
as if
some could only see it with
special tools
like x-ray glasses
that would have to be shared around,
tried on,
taken turns with.
in thinking people had to take turns
with their connection to the divine,
to the right and good of the world,
they found it to be like a special power.
but the monkeys knew this power as well.
see they knew to
jump between the roots,
the trunk,
the ever-growing branches,
the crumbling earth,
the height of the tree,
the reach of the sky,
the connection to the sun.
and everyone acted differently.
every human acted differently.
some clung.
some hid.
some laid down.
some ran.
they thought about it.
but so few could run up the tree.
so few could.
could you imagine?
trusting the growth of this tree,
would it feed you,
and provide for you,
all that had come from the earth?
would you figure it out?
some people jumped on that tree.
they went right up with it,
them and the monkeys.
most of the monkeys jumped with the tree.
a lot of people hid,
a lot of people were scared.
most of the houses got shooken up, too.
these were the ones
were the sick people hid.
their houses got all shook up,
and they had to come out.
most of the happy people
didn’t care too much about their houses,
anyways.
they didn’t care
about their houses getting shook.
they were more concerned for the tree,
the few who ran up it,
and the monkeys.
they thought it was amazing.
they couldn’t believe their eyes.
the sick people thought it was scary.
they couldn’t believe their minds.
the tree grew so tall it touched the sun,
and it began to poke a hole in the sky
so that there was perpetual darkness.
this made the sickness in people get better
because they felt safer
without the expediency
of humanity’s indecent nature.
but the healthy people
were relying upon that sun
to be their protector,
their source of warmth,
they needed it
like a baby needs a blanket.
so when the tree poked the hole in the sun,
things started to shift.
some childhood’s balance beam
began to go the other way,
then from whence it came.
there was a reckoning
of the heart,
in many ways.
a lot of tangible items
began to feel somewhat
more significant than usual.
and when people wept,
it was really about the marvel
of it all.
they were really unified in that,
that state of
unalarmingly sweet disbelief.
it didn’t matter who said what
or why or when or where
none of that mattered
when the sick lay weeping
and the healthy were joyous
they sprang up together
out of the trees
out of the woods
out of the flowers
out of the moons
they said
we knew it all along!
we knew it would be like this
we knew it could be like this.
they frolicked and they cried
their tears sprang forth more life
they cried and they cried
in deep joy
for the wellness of the earth
for the merriment of their hearts.
their tears
brought forth waters
brought forth canoes
brought forth music
they sang and they cried
in mighty health and mighty joy
they sang for the sick
they wept for the poor
they cried for the tragedies
overladen
on earth
the sick lay weeping
they cried by their lonesome
they kept journals about their loneliness
they read books by their lonesome
they cried about how tragic
everything
ever was
and is
and will be
forever
and always
they said
it will never get better
they said
it will always be
this horrible filthy mess
this burial of survivors
it will always be sick with scum
and muck
always
and they wept like that
all alone
sick and sad
they wept
about the horridness
of everything
while the healthy jumped for joy
over the very same everything
they leapt when they wept
they hugged when they cried
they begged for mercy
they begged for more
they wanted everything
they wanted it all
and to them,
all came,
like the thundering wind,
the cloudless night,
and the trees began to shake
so that dirt
flung from their roots
as they rose
higher and higher
into the sky.
it was a marvelous thing
to watch the monkeys
grasping onto the trees
as they rose right up into the sun.
they were the only ones
who could think
fast enough,
decide quick enough,
to hold on,
which they did.
everyone watched, too.
that was part of the marvel of it.
they saw the tree rising up,
shaking the dirt from the ground,
vibrating the earth
between the crusts
of where it hugged
the underground.
the nests and branches
shook down slowly
while the sky parted
and everyone thought differently of it.
everyone cried, certainly.
but they all thought differently,
this time not of the other group,
but of every other individual.
they became so much more divided,
in that way,
of becoming so united
over the earth shattering her papermakers
disrupting their minds
consolidating their futures.
it wasn’t so easy to assume people were different
between their motives,
experiences,
desires,
dreams,
hopes,
and personally perceived failures.
they didn’t know it could be so personal.
a lot of people thought
they were right,
you see?
each one justified
in her or her domain
began to marvel at something greater
as if
some could only see it with
special tools
like x-ray glasses
that would have to be shared around,
tried on,
taken turns with.
in thinking people had to take turns
with their connection to the divine,
to the right and good of the world,
they found it to be like a special power.
but the monkeys knew this power as well.
see they knew to
jump between the roots,
the trunk,
the ever-growing branches,
the crumbling earth,
the height of the tree,
the reach of the sky,
the connection to the sun.
and everyone acted differently.
every human acted differently.
some clung.
some hid.
some laid down.
some ran.
they thought about it.
but so few could run up the tree.
so few could.
could you imagine?
trusting the growth of this tree,
would it feed you,
and provide for you,
all that had come from the earth?
would you figure it out?
some people jumped on that tree.
they went right up with it,
them and the monkeys.
most of the monkeys jumped with the tree.
a lot of people hid,
a lot of people were scared.
most of the houses got shooken up, too.
these were the ones
were the sick people hid.
their houses got all shook up,
and they had to come out.
most of the happy people
didn’t care too much about their houses,
anyways.
they didn’t care
about their houses getting shook.
they were more concerned for the tree,
the few who ran up it,
and the monkeys.
they thought it was amazing.
they couldn’t believe their eyes.
the sick people thought it was scary.
they couldn’t believe their minds.
the tree grew so tall it touched the sun,
and it began to poke a hole in the sky
so that there was perpetual darkness.
this made the sickness in people get better
because they felt safer
without the expediency
of humanity’s indecent nature.
but the healthy people
were relying upon that sun
to be their protector,
their source of warmth,
they needed it
like a baby needs a blanket.
so when the tree poked the hole in the sun,
things started to shift.
some childhood’s balance beam
began to go the other way,
then from whence it came.
there was a reckoning
of the heart,
in many ways.
a lot of tangible items
began to feel somewhat
more significant than usual.
and when people wept,
it was really about the marvel
of it all.
they were really unified in that,
that state of
unalarmingly sweet disbelief.
