"Make Poets Of Them All"
"It was once noted, upon a time to be specific, by god no less and some of their advisors that the lands and seas were locked in a tussle."
The notion of fact or fiction is important. But it is moot in the face of a much larger, looming question:
“For whom?”
It was once noted, upon a time to be specific, by god no less and some of their advisors that the lands and seas were locked in a tussle. Either said that theirs was the world, the other was merely ensconsed within it.
The seas said they surrounded the land and thus, the land was at their mercy.
The lands said they rose above the sea and thus were better than them.
The seas said they were spread far and wide and could drown the land in an instant. Their mercy was the only thing keeping the lands alive.
The lands said that the sea could rise and fall, the land would remain. Their invincibility was the only thing keeping the seas in their place.
Which came first the land or the sea?
“For whom?” asked
Violence escalated.
The seas sent in the Rivers and Lakes, Puddles even, to scar the lands.
The lands sent in Islands, detonated Volcanoes, shifted secret agent Plates even, to destabilize the seas.
The two foes, having forgotten what sparked the war, battled on, with god and their helpers watching on. Some taking notes, oohing and aahing, appluading even; choice military strategy and celebrating the turnover of underdog status from one to another over and over.
god meanwhile, made three assertions based on evidence. They would come to be called the three lies:
The war was all-encompassing. That was the first lie.
The war would end with either land or sea being declared supreme. This was the second lie.
The war being fought was just and right. This was the third lie.
“For whom?” asked the skies.
The skies, ever silent, knew the assertions were a lie.
“We, the skies, ever silent ever watching ever ever, know that the war is a creation of a shared memory. A memory of war. Which came first, the war or the spark of it? Who remembers what sparked the war? Who remembers a time before the war? Who remembers. Who? Remembers? The skies remember. But we are silent. But the three assertions, god, are lies. you must see that.”
god reviewed their notes and, for fear of embarrassment, blinked them out of existence. god moved to the skies and created a place where the skies could parlay with them and state their grievances. They called this the heavens.
The skies said that no one understood the eternal war. No one understood why the lands and seas fought, what they were expecting to win apart from more fight. A part of the skies, erudite and questioning, also asked whether or not the skies had an adversary as well.
god was silent. This was a time for questions. A time for answers would come when it came.
The skies felt heavy, left out, alone and tragically bereft of companionship.
They had nothing, no one, but their memory of a time before the lands and seas drew battle lines called shores. They knew everything and they knew that their knowledge could turn the tide of the war. This and other knowledge, eternal in its scope, weighed heavily on them and for the first time… It rained.
The lands, unsure of these developments, assumed the seas were attacking with newly developed strategies. They scrambled to mount a defense.
The skies told god that they must help them end this long and bitter war. They must be allowed to enter the war.
god explained that according to the lands and the seas there had only ever been war and without it, there was nothing, no one.
The skies would be attacked not only by the seas but also the lands. There was no way they could win.
The skies said they didn’t want to win. They wanted the war to end.
War only ends, said god, when one wins.
Wars only end, said the skies, when the memory of peacetime is allowed to take root.
What then will one do with the memory of war?
The skies had no answer yet.
god understood and god decreed, “Make Poets Of Them All” and so it was.
The skies were granted poetry, the weapon of the gods, to turn the tide of the memory of war between the lands and the seas.
That was how Thunder was born. To recount the memory of peacetime.
Both the lands and the seas stood guard at the horizon waiting for the skies to attack. They thought their poetry was a battle-cry.
For a moment, the shoreline was calm. The armies had turned their back on one another, trusting in the memory of a new enemy.
But no attack came and that moment stretched on for longer and longer…
There was only the rumble of Thunder that spoke of peace, sometimes in verse-sometimes not.
The skies over millenia had continued their poetry which had turned to song and the lands and the seas continued to stand guard at the horizon, the end of their worlds.
Over time they turned their back and forgot the war that had ravaged them both.
They shared a new memory now.
but god knew
the skies would never speak again
the memory of peacetime had taken root
but it had taken with it
the memory of poetry from the skies
But poetry was not gone from the world
god granted it to the lands in the folds of mountains
god granted it to the seas in the undulating waves
god granted poetry to every thing
god granted poetry
in the name of the skies
so that we
may
remember
the memory of the skies
This piece was inspired The Blahcksheep’s Rear Reads Book Club Session. It’s an incredible space with even more incredible people. I can already tell that the readers are and will always be greater than what is read. Could there be any better reason to join? Join here!