by Becky Harblin
The ancients came down
or up holding scrolls, or tablets,
or nothing but the wind.
They never lied.
All they say is true, all they said is true.
And we mortals pick our noses,
our fleas, our friends. and our right religious
ways. And they are all true, all right, all ours
to pick or not. All we say is true, all we said is true.
The ancients came down
or up holding their hands upon their hearts
or holding their hands on genitals
so large as to be fantastic.
But, they showed their true selves, they show their true selves.
And we mortals pick our mates,
and multiply. And train our children
in our ways. And each way is true, all ways
right, all ours, because all we say is true, all we said is true.
The ancients came down
or up holding sacks of seeds, and cages of fowl,
and simple tools to garden or farm.
Some liked grapes, others wanted guinea, but they
shared their knowings, All they said is true, all they say is true.
And we mortals took up
the sacks and tools and raised
the plants and farmed the fowls. And we trained
our children in our ways. All we say is true, and all we said is true.
The ancients came down
or up holding weapons and raised fists into the bloody
air. Until their gargantuan anger lay the earth bare.
They never lied. They showed their true selves, they show their true selves.
And we mortals took up
the shouts and raised our weapons into the bloody
air. Until our righteous anger lay the earth bare.
But, we showed our true selves and all we say is true
and all we said is true. And now the end begins again.
Becky Harblin, a sculptor who works in concrete and soapstone also writes daily haiku and senryu. Each morning starts with these meditative short "in-the-moment' poems. Becky lives on a farm with sheep in a rural county in upstate New York. After years of working in Manhatten, she moved to the more pastoral setting where life is no less demanding but offers different observations and opportunities. Her poetry has been published on New Verse News, and North Country Literary Journal.