Unpublished
My family is here
surrounding me
but I am far away
beneath the creak of the floorboards
underneath the dripping of the sink
next to the soup cans and the potatoes
flying over burnt stubble fields
freeing myself from barbed wire fences
I dive deep into a sea
where I drown and resurface
drown and resurface
as the King of Water.
They surround me
but I am far away
listening
with all the cares
of the sun
shining down on green grass
that lies in wait for the arrows of rain
who wait for the clouds to fill
who wait for the turning of the tide.
I went looking
for God
and my Grandfather
beneath Oklahoma skies
because they could see me better
in the wide open plains.
I found them
in the river flowing
through my veins
and heard their voices
in the hum of a tractor
and the rumble of an old Plymouth.
I smelled my Grandfather
in the oil refineries
and passed him
on the broken streets
of Nebraska.
As the world crumbled,
we shook hands
and promised to keep in touch.
The next time
I see them
I will understand it all
the next time
I hear them
I will join their song.
I roll over on my back
and a raindrop hits my forehead
splashing me
reminding me
filling me
with the sound
of my Grandfather’s laughter
ringing in my ears
I reach out
for my ancestors
to show me the way home
to compassion
and a safe place to rest
where all I hear
is the hum in my ears
when everything is quiet
and all I want to do
is walk away
to dig a cave
where no one will find me
but archeologists
who will wonder
why the crude writings
on the stone walls
were never published.
Jonathan Warren is a thirty six year old musician. Warren’s writing has appeared in Confrontation, Blackheart, Z-Composition, The Write Room and Toucan Magazine.
