GARGOYLES

https://pixabay.com/en/gargoyle-cathedral-strasbourg-1663459/

GARGOYLES
A dream of the Black Death that ravaged Europe.

Frozen stones wept sheets of water
Vomited from gargoyles
Looming on the walls.

My brother and I in desperate embrace,
Shivered beneath a hidden arch,
Filthy in our rags,
Praying the Holy Mother
Would save us.

When the bells stopped tolling
The Fathers whom we had loved,
Fled Death,
And with kicks and whips and black tongues
Screeched us away from their carriage.

Terrified souls staggered down the streets
Like a putrid river
And washed up a writhing flotsam
Beneath the sacred altar
To moan and die in heaps.

We climbed above them into a cavern of timbers
And found a blind man with rope-calloused hands
Who fed us apples dried fish, and crusts.

He gently bathed us with a cloth
Before a small hearth,
Flames flickering our skin,
Warm water pooling in the basin at our feet;
And clothed us in clean garments.

An owl called beneath the eves
And I was afraid.
She is our friend,
She protects us, he said.
We slept that night beneath her wings
Safe in his bed.

In the morning standing among the gargoyles,
Their hard stone eyes gazing upon a muted city
Somber in cold dirty white
And twisting smokes,
The man laid his hand upon my shoulder,
And I wept.
I wept for the dead.
I wept for God.

After a time he gently asked,
What do you see boy?
It snowed during the night sir.
Are there people in the streets?
Only a few dogs.
And do you see God?
God, sir?
Yes, do you see Him?
Confused, I said,
No, I do not see Him.
I looked to my brother,
He shook his head,
Eyes wide.
He did not see God either.

There was silence,
Then the man spoke,
God is certainly here.
I looked more closely,
But did not see.
There was no God here
Or anywhere.

The man looked out over the city
A breeze touched his whisping hair,
And with milky eyes
He saw things
We did not.

God is here boys.
He said in a quiet voice.
He is in all of this.
Ah, well…
Enough for now.

He took our cold hands
Leading us inside
Where he told us stories of a farm,
A dappled gray horse,
His mother,
Green heavy vines,
Juice running down his neck…

My brother and I slipped into those
Warm summer fields
And slept,
Gently dreaming sweet visions of earth.

The sun risen, we stepped up into the bell tower
And our friend spoke,

Let us ring the bells
For those who are full of fear
And cannot see,
Perhaps we can give them hope.

My brother and I pulled the ropes
And flew into the air
Laughing.