Vertigo
I watched them once, from the bleachers, squirming in
my down coat, though farmers stomped snow off their boots at the entrance
and women plucked pine needles from their braids—
I watched them, the circus women
dangling from the rafters without a net
below.
Red costumes, feathers, heels
they fluttered in the spotlight, past terror
past reason,
twirling, spinning, swinging
without regard for the hardwood floor.
I didn’t understand
sitting there on the wooden bench
wringing my hands
them entwined above me, gripping, letting
go—one woman would detach from the joist and
fall
red skirts swirling
plunging
a flaming meteor
gathering speed…until the other woman
grabbed her heels
and flung the falling woman
back up
both smiling and waving.
(This is foolishness, my uncle shook his head, stuffing
fistfuls of popcorn into his cheeks, there’s nothing to catch them)
I didn’t understand these perilous flirtations, this drive to perform without
harness or net, trusting a partner to pluck
an ankle out of the air as
casually as a woman plucks a flower
and tucks it behind her ear.
Don’t some meteors burn away in the clouds?
Others meet resistance, skipping off the atmosphere
those shooting stars which hit
the ground leave behind a crater:
terrible odds for survival.
Was it a measure of faith? Beyond
fear, where the egg falling from a nest
the tower tumbling down
the meteor hurling through clouds, where
something reaches out
catching all. I watched them once
the circus women twirling, trusting
and later heard that
somewhere in Wisconsin or Minnesota
in a small town
spinning
one woman missed
the other fell
police ended the act, fining
the circus for not using nets
(I told you they were in for trouble
my uncle clucked his tongue)
I didn’t understand
and became scared of heights—
that if I fell
there might not be a net to
catch me
Wow. That gave me chills. The imagery, the hidden metaphors, everything. My personal reading of this poem reminded me of the pessimistic, the naysayers, the ones who role their eyes at the miracles of life and who live their lives searching for the flaws in God's creation. The people who plant small doubts and fears in our minds. Do we try to answer them? How do we respond when someone points to a beggar on the street and asks us how God could let such horrors happen?
This poem warrants further examination, as it brings some very constructive questions to mind. Nice work.
Posted by: Jordan on December 21, 2003 10:20 AMJenna, I like it. :)
Jordan, in response to your question about the problem of suffering, I believe that suffering only exists as a result of man's free will. In order for suffering to be eradicated, man's ability to choose evil would not exist, and no man could hurt himself or another.
That is why we are called to love our neighbor as ourselves, that we take care of our fellow man so that he won't be in the streets begging for food, blown up by a car bomb in Israel, or working in bonded labor to repay a debt that neither he nor his children will never be able to afford.
Posted by: Edward on December 22, 2003 02:33 AMThank you for your insightful comments. You both touched on the undercurrent of the poem--this question of human suffering and fearing there is no reason behind it.
I still struggle with this fear. It's easier to understand poverty, perhaps, because the poor are often blessed with spiritual qualities the rich don't possess. (I'm thinking of Christ's words: "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.") Natural disasters are understandable, too. We call them "acts of God," after all.
But I don't understand the reason for perversity; how do you account for abused children, for example? Or, widespread hunger in a world producing more food than ever before? Rape? The Holocaust?
We have that quote, in the Faith, about an ocean current, a ship, and its rudder. Paraphrasing, it says (or maybe implies) that, though people "steer" their lives for good or ill, their actions are not possible without God's "current" propelling them forward. (Okay, I know I'm on shaky ground because I don't have the exact quote.)
That's where the issue of suffering becomes complicated, for me. That's where the naysayer points at the beggar in the street and asks, "What God would allow this?" (Though, in the end, I trust there is a reason, that "something reaches out catching all.")
What do you think? How do you wrap your brain around suffering? Do you think, as Edward said, that if suffering were eradicated, man's ability to choose evil (free will) would also disappear?
Posted by: Jenna on December 27, 2003 12:09 PMwow. thank you for sharing that poem, it really touched me.
Posted by: Nahal on December 29, 2003 03:58 PMAgree. Glad you said that.
Posted by: Martin on January 8, 2004 05:42 AM(all content Copyright National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha'is of the United States, 2000-2003, do not use without permission)