Now that we are in the Easter Season, perhaps one shouldn’t be thinking of Exodus journeys any more. I’m in my office on a bit of a cleaning jag. There is probably enough dust here to liken it to any desert, but that is another story. In my putterings, I found a copy of IMPRESSIONS, a literature magazine from Dickinson State University in 1992. I found in it several old friends, that is poems and prose that I almost forgot I wrote. One of them stuck out and I thought I would share it tonight.
ALMOST AN EXODUS
I was there
but where was it that I was?
Placed suddenly, swiftly
in an environment
I neither knew, or understood.
And yet,
I said I would come.
So I began
wondering and wandering
Cursing….
the vastness, the dryness,
the heat of day,
the bitter cold at night.
Little creatures, cactus flowers,
I would not, could not see you
in my self pity and fears
I traveled ’round and ’round, again and again
I could not even tell where I had been.
MIRAGES….
Is that You?
You SHOULD look like that.
I’ve traveled far enough!
I deserve a break!
So I ran towards it with all my strength.
On my arrival,
I found nothing but sand.
Throwing a handful, I screamed,
“Damn You!” Where are You when I need You?”
So I began
wondering and wandering
Cursing . . . .
the vastness, the dryness,
the heat of day
the bitter cold at night.
Little creatures, cactus flowers,
I would not, could not see you
in my self pity and fears
I traveled ’round and ’round, again and again
Not even recognizing where I had been.
In my emptiness
I cried once more,
“I am failing! I do not know
how or where to go next.
I cannot do it.”
So I began
wondering and wandering
and then, when I did not expect it,
an Oasis appeared.
The Water was so large,
I drank all I could,
till I could drink no more;
the quietly I rested
in the shelter of its shore.
I would have liked to stay there
peaceful and content
but I knew
the journey had not ended.
So We began,
wondering and wandering
Praising . . . .
the vastness, the dryness,
the heat of day,
the bitter cold at night,
Little creatures, cactus flowers,
Have you always been there?
How beautiful you are.
I was there
but where was it that I was?
Placed suddenly, swiftly
in an evironment
I neither knew, or understood.
And yet, You bid me to come.
Jill Maria Murdy-circa a long time ago