Sunday, November 12, 2006

Jan Oskar Hansen

Night Journey.

A near accident almost run over by the train…shock, her
old heart gave way she collapsed in my arms. Wrapped
in her blanket she looked asleep. Drove into the long night,
headlights made a temporary tunnel in the darkness:

” If I turn the light off, we will both disappear.” Looked
in the rear view mirror, mother smiled. At the petrol
station its young attendant, seeing death for the first time,
was pale, this was reality, not play station2.

Found the grotto I was looking for, it was dry had straw
on the floor and a lit candle in a niche on the wall, the dead
Jesus on a slab, his body cleaned by loving hands, but his
face still bore the agony suffered by the righteous.

Laid her beside him, she looked so brittle, they had both
achieved eternal life, she because she had no foreknowledge
of impending demise, he was now our collective myth
Messiah, who gives hope and light in the darkest of nights.

Blocked the entrance with stones and twigs of olive trees
the night now a fair blue veil of sadness, from the east
fearless soldier sun-rays came storming down the ridge,
zapping shadows and a new day was born.

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