05/10/2011

An Ode to Fire

There was a day remembered as in a distant dream
When innocence o'ercame me and I danced with merry step
Down stairs doused in morning rain, kicking puddles in abandon.
But then she happened across my path, such circumstance
Impossible to have foreseen, and I, reacting too late
Caught but a glance, a glare, a scorning and unwavering rebuke.

Long did I persist in studying this regrettable event--
Perhaps it was her eyes, so crystal blue, as a glacier
Set upon its course; perhaps, my own instinctive shame
At injustice done upon her Sunday attire--whatever the cause,
My unease would not rest, I did, I must have an answer
To tell the world that I indeed was innocent of this unspeakable crime.

For now in mind I had crafted that which only mind could craft,
Something unnatural as fire: "Intention is the sole criterion
Of moral responsibility." This blade, this killing instrument I threw
In battle against the ogre Guilt, until at last its blood
Burned crisp within its veins. Perceiving my victory so I relished:
"Causality is but an argument of beasts; here is the domain of man."

A day ago I worked all night, and coming home discovered that my friend
Had fallen ill, and so I elected to watch our child through the day.
I sat her on my lap and sang to her; I held her hands with fingers as she walked.
I laid her down to sleep. I went out to the porch and had a cigarette.
I put it out and tossed it in our urn, unlike my friend who never bothers,
And went inside to see a film and rest at last.

But then a half hour later at the least, an explosion rocked the room,
A fire quickly spreading, grown vast unnoticed, from my inadvertent failure--
I suppose it was not out entirely. What a shame. What a small flame.






Read for context.