Canticle for Oliviet
I
Now therefore write you this canticle and teach the children of Israel:
That they may know it by heart and sing it by mouth,
And this song may be unto me for a testimony among the children of Israel.
This is the truth man-kind had forgotten, and need be forgotten:
Flesh can endure but the soul is so brittle, the blood drains, souls die;
This is the truth man-kind had to choose to forget, it remains still:
Breathing begins with a wail and so shall it conclude in a poor sigh.
Born in a pit, I was born underground, I was born dead, and was once dead;
More than a thought had yet struck this mind in amidst all the black soil,
Mere thought came, and was found dead, long dead, though I was not now —
Born in a grave, to be sure, an ironic encounter I shan’t spoil —
This irony, or proverb can speak well of itself by a dead man’s
Birth, and so life is a manner of a body who cries in its hunger;
Born in a heap in Gehenna, in She’ol, in Hell’s dust,
Breathing in ash, in a state of a formerly permanent slumber —
Lest it return, if it comes as mistaken, impermanent — pushing
Up and against sand, dust, and the bones of the dead, ought move
This man born dead, be he bone, in between, or nothing at all, what he
Maybe defies more than he can shew, proves less than he could not prove . . .
Dust in a heap is uneasily moved; great forces applied well
Moves scorched dust in a cloud of expansive and dancing delight, so
Short, sharp thrusts of my limbs in a frenzied and manic display might do:
This is the very beginning of living remembrance I might know;
Beats of my fists and my feet fill this grave, crying and thrashing,
Merciless movements of infantile eagerness moving in thrashed rinse;
Breathing and sight, unavailable, panics the mind worse when compared to
Hells we can conjure — the missing is what it is, Hell is the absence;
Motion among all the dust and the ash might show indications of
Freedom or early release, and indeed, death failed in its taking
This man born dead, moving, and feeling the lights of a warm sun:
Soil above had been loosened, a resurrection of someone’s making
Greater debris cascading in flows of impressive arrays made
Possible strictly because of the struggle, the pain, and however
Buried alive or alive post burial, coming to life,
Fresh of the heap of Gehenna, and crying and dragging it together,
Ashes arranged in a foul and burning embrace of my eyes, to
Squint or to brush it away wrought nothing, so it might have remained ’till
Warm winds brought much-needed eviction of burnt things,
Taking away and indeed, wind came and it stood, it remained still,
This wind blew it away and so took the debris that buried
What’s underneath, too; this is the way that wind had returned my
Soul; lest judgment be levied, decided without cause, this is
Meant to allude to a great force: whom is commanded shall turn, die;
Whirling above in a spiral of white, white heavens abounding
Perfectly, imagery spangled in beautiful terror, the morning
Sky, in its patterns of clouds, revelation is hidden and surely
Lorded among the inferior, over the sun and the moon, and sojourning
There as it roams in the mouths of the innocent, so the truth as it sought me —
What it has seen! — so if truth lives always as witness, if truth had
Seen whom raised this dead, it remains in the world, and I only see
Skies as a witness to this, all around the debris, in the rock-clad
Wadi, no other is witness; if witnesses come in the valley
Here, an unseen path must be the sole explanation, if there were
Such an unseen path, then where might it be hidden — it must lie
North-south; south is a plain and a ridge, north is a mountain, a tower,
Ruins, and a smoldering heap, so by fate things drive, it is never
Merely coincidence; such as, it must be the fate of a late man,
Born-dead: walk to the city of ruin among the undead path
Toward the smoke of unknown rest — smoke is a sign where the snake stands —
Should this ever be seen or be heard, on its merits be judged: all
There is to know, be indeed known, let it be thus said:
Witnesses of magic, unnatural things, could never be silent,
Magic it must be to witness the walking of what was the once-dead;
Seeking the witnesses that, at the heap, once buried a man there,
Offering flesh to a god, or a punishment brought of a grave sin,
Cities do share similarities, though this one has unraveled
Skips in the heart, as the place of an holy ovation
Rising and up from the ash of the heap, in a body of born-dead,
Rising and once more, in displays of a brilliant crimsons and dull golds,
Ribbons of dust and reticulate refuse cascade down, forming an ash-cloud
Carried by wind yet again, and it billowed unearthed, carrying what holds
Fragments of sacrifice, sorrow, remorse, and regret as a cape of
Dead things, folded upon the revived; in the blink of an eye, that
Cloud disappeared, ceremonious that the undead is
Draped in a shroud of the dead, in the form of remains, and in dry fat;
Winds are again the ambassadors bringing a soul to the elsewhere:
Stones by the valley, markers for pilgrims or merchants, are merely
Signs of the road to Egyptian or Syrian markets, and so why the
Path is so traveled, if memory serves; still, why I severely
Hold this place as a first destination is partly to question,
Partly to blame, and it’s hard to examine in ruins of bald stone,
Being among all the dead of the Pit is a fate that raises a concern, I
Ponder if this is the City of David — perhaps, it is called home —
Ravaged in war and consigned to the Pit as was case for my own flesh,
Now overflowing with evils of spoils, with ravishing, robbing,
Spits in the streets for the boil of children by mothers, and worse yet,
God is its witness, His skies share not in Jerusalem’s sobbing . . .
Saying as much is a way to confirm a suspicion my heart holds,
There is no way of establishing this well; maybe so, some minds
Know but a fraction of what is in hearts — to be fair, hearts know
Not of their contents so well, inasmuch hearts are an organ, so one finds
Thoughts if dissecting a heart — it is known if its contents are vicious
Based on the words of our mouths, it is never within as in matter;
Somehow, remaining within as in spirit, a fragment of something
Greater, the world of the forms: incomplete, and imperfect, is sadder;
Walking in reverence, crimson displays in the sky, is a wonder
Worthy of praise if it not were a sign of a place decomposing;
Flames sweep over disturbed skies, drizzling embers upon the
Earth, and upon a discovering dreamer en route to a closing
Door, to a place where lineage beckons; in death, we are gathered
One day midst all our ancestors, gathered to forebearers’ sands, stone
Under the stone, in a place of unfathomable darkness, of sinners,
Where the remains of the damned coarse, knowing a bone from a bone,
Walking the sands of the ancients, the places the Patriarchs walked, too,
Where we are buried with them, or we wish to be buried, in new dust;
What this man born dead is so driven to find in a burning
City remains to be seen, for a truth bears seeking a truth must
Always be done for an end, that seeking the truth for its own sake
Ends in a negative way, if it ever, in fact, ends; handsome
Words can dispute this truth; look, Satan is there, and he slithers,
Speaking through two fangs with an intent to beguile a man from
God, for in knowledge works old ways to erase and destroy, by
Giving us things in exchange; it is certainly worth it to trouble
One’s own mind if it means to accept one’s ignorance, that such
Things are in truth, and the waste to endeavor a journey to rubble:
This was Jerusalem, here and destroyed, or at least, in distress, where
Signs of its occupants surely have left disarray, from outside rings
Loud the ungodly and thunderous groans of a siege, and its sacking;
Cries of the damned come forcefully, echoes of voices who died, things
Feel so familiar: walls of the temple are broken, and north I
Hear the arrangement of siege tools beating against the remaining
Structures within come top’ling foundations the place stood
Firmly upon, and so here these things are revealed; in regaining
Life, it is wasted in having returned to where angels of death crouch:
This place, God-got, Zion of God, is a city unbuilding,
Leveled to stones in the sand, and its knowledge had lured in again that
Man who was claimed by its fate — it is probable here was my killing
Floor, and if this is unlikely, a man’s life renders a good work
Might the mistake be encouraged again; so refreshing to live twice,
Three lives shan’t be presumed; a mistake if it comes to be made twice
Nary be called a mistake at all; rather, a pattern is to give thrice;
Little else offered itself as an option apart from my going
Forward, for fleeing is futile, and whether its truth is within or
Not, it is still worth seeking, indeed; the intention is still there,
Finding the truth of the raised dead, any at all, or a sinner
Much less, would be already a dead man should he be found by
Roman or otherwise: this one might be a Jew, as a once-dead
Seed of the Patriarchs brought to another existence, or simply
One of the Gentiles, though it remains too uncertain; my shaved head
Might be the sign of a ritual cleansing, or lack of adherence
Since it is covenant law that good men never be met if
Lacking in hair on his head; there might be a way to confirm this —
There is a place on the body to tell if I rest on the Sabbath —
Look and behold, underneath sack-cloth and the tunic, the mark of
Abraham, part of the flesh is amiss; so appears for a man born
Dead was indeed born first as a Jew — and so this explanation
Comes no surprise if Jerusalem knew this man, so beneath torn
Sackcloth bore the undoubtable sign of a circumcised man, then
Reason suffices explaining a man as the fruit of the seed of
Israel; such a development comes at a time of misfortune,
Lacking in tunic and shame: so approaches a man in an ephod,
Haggard and bearing distress in his eyes, full sprint, and a scorched tunic
Over his garment, is surely a sign, as his flight from Roman
Peril was swift and particular; quickly, he drew near, thus I
Drew closed tunic and sack-cloth, hurried and shamefully — no man
Needs to be shown the original state of a man, less as he barrels
Fleeing a city in ruin; indeed, it is also abounding
Wisdom, to flee if approached by another in flight, and so lurching
Forth, two Hebrews began a Davidic retreat to surrounding
Lands of Jerusalem, hosting a fabulous Mount to the East, of
Which we directed ourselves to its east side; there, as it solely
Stands by the throng of the Israel wilderness, what is by way of
Memory, refuge of kings and a prophet’s encumbrance, the holy
Mount of the Olives, and here that both of us come to become safe.
Speaking at least relatively; if Romans are half as insightful
Next to usurpers of David’s descent, never a reason to fear; yet,
Maybe as morning arrives, so will Romans, and never it delightful
Waking to legions of spoil-engorged men; far be it, therefore,
Such a concern shall merit its worries another digression,
Now is important to simply escape to the east, to the hidden
Haunch from immediate view of the legions, a ridge of a depression
Cutting the Valley of Zion, providing a natural cover
Ages ago for the king that fled from Absalom; this day,
This place covers a man of Jerusalem whilst the besieging,
Possibly razing, of Zion, is done, and so goes in a melee
Spared of us Hebrews the carnage delivered to those undeserving,
Mothers and children, infirm and the elders of Israel: lifting
One’s eyes there, and behold, one time the beginning of months were
Held in the days of a Temple rebuilt, so we Hebrews are sifting
Fast all the dust of the siege in a hope, or perhaps desperation,
That the emboldened and organized legions were occupied; there, we
Dug, all the earth and the ash that once, in a verse I had spake, had
Covered a man in his memory, where he was destined to bury
More than the only-revived, if enough ash spilled from mighty
Zion to cover the Hebrews together; but since we arrived there,
Some time after we fled for a refuge, with safety secured for
Now, such moments the Sadducee stared, all he could do was just stare;
Silence between us remained, and if wind and Jerusalem burning
Over the Mount inexplicably ended, all might be in silence;
Venturing there to the city perhaps came well, for in fleeing
East toward this Mount saved him and me of Jerusalem’s violence;
Scribes aren’t known as courageous, unyielding, or deft of the hand, and
Panic already enraptured the Sadducee running and fleeing;
This by itself meant that, in perhaps an enigma of fate, we
Found each other so that he’d be saved; by him following, seeing
This man born dead flee for the Mount, his protection is like the
King of Jerusalem from some time past; this providential
Meeting is serving a purpose in gathering truth from what is
Otherwise burning, too: Pharisees might answer the existential
Questions so needed to quell all the personal and vain existential
Ponderings bringing a man here, that if he thought no objection
Now, it indeed would trouble the Sadducees soon: this man whose
Guided retreat brought both of us here, by a closer inspection,
Bore indications of greatly disturbing and dark revelations.
Covered in blood, ash, fragments of bone, an aroma reserved for
Dead men so anointed by spikenard, and bearing the shroud of
Burial: sharing a respite by this man means he deserves more
Than the appearance alone, to be joined in a close, necessary
Shelter beside this man, who looked to be buried before — now
Came a concern: is it possible that he is called to the grave,
Wading in dust and debris, to be dead by proximity, somehow —
Such as it were, all he mustered was stare; this Sadducee, bearing
What the Levitical class wore daily, the mitre and ephod,
Covered in gold, blue threads, and the symbols of Israel, should be
What is distinguishing Aaron’s descendant and what is indeed of
She’ol, a Jew raised from death, what could only be witnessed
During a turbulent time, and perhaps the confirming of prophets
Long since slain; if it bothered him, this made known as I spoke, to
Show no afflication, and thus — in a way, it is owed to the Sadducee — offered,
Born in a pit, I was born underground, I was born dead, and was once dead;
Turning his face, it was lacking surprise and repose, he responded,
Lo, and behold, it is this man’s hands that holding the sword
Fell and devoured the flesh of thy neck, thou were wanted;
Then, underneath his own cloak, he removed some kind of a short sword,
Stained by the blood of a number of souls, so the blade was engraved in
Hebrew a prayer of penance, engraved Lord God be forgiving;
Speaking again, he elaborates: This siege ended, and today’s been
Long, unforgiving, and full of despair; on the fifth day, mothers
Ate their children, and that in itself is unable to rival
What these Levites endured this morning; and soon we had took the
Last of the lambs that, given to God in our faith, are survival,
Rather deliverance, from the besieging of Gentiles, once so
Frightened the priests, we all garrisoned that night, that we had fashioned
Blades for a sacrilege, that to ensure Lord God still dwelt in
Israel, sacrifice mirroring Isaac, the fruit of the passion
Abraham felt for our Lord, might strike all the priest’s hands this day;
One, two, three, and the rest struck that night by my own sword,
God had refused to belay one blow, and in shame, we
Cast pitch-lit flesh, south-bound, meant for decay, and for Rome’s horde;
Here on the Mount, and in days recompense for the sins on the day we
Killed men like this came to us; yes, it is easily placed, in
Some form, this man’s face in among all the lives we extinguished
There, all before God; still, it recalls King David, who faced sin,
Answering honestly pleases our Lord, though a punishment still comes.
Thus he had spoke. In the case that Sadducee speaks as he claims, true,
Then it indeed is of providence that he required the guidance
Here; it is true at the Mount, and indeed it is still, if he came through
That night, legions remained here shortly until the sacking
Started, and thus he was poor in his reasons to come here, seeing
Romans; so God had delivered to this man innocent blood, yet
Also delivered him from death, twice; we are similar, being
Saved from death in a different way, if it should be the will of
Lord God, then it befits this plan to control whatever
Plans of revenge; in forgiveness, we stand to survive in the desert
Only, as God planned, staying together — perhaps not forever —
Over enough time, that we are bonded by fate and we should be
Safe in the fortress of faith in the Lord, we may part ways in the missed day,
This day, still in the blood of my heart not a droplet of hatred
Shall be produced: it is God’s will that he is living, and this way
This man shall stay, should harm come to us, this revelation
Warrants us safety in what is to come, as the Sadducee realized
That this man’s hand failed to extend or to draw in a rage a
Blade, nor a word of rebuke, if expecting at least to be chastised,
Only a silent response, as it passed in the wind as a speck of
Dust; it is said to be least of all punishments, greatest of praises,
Hardest of reactions, and what is the only reward that heals souls:
Being forgiven for one’s sins; that being as said, it betrays his
Guilt that first, he responded by bitterly weeping; it should be
Known, as the charges he levies against the Jerusalem priesthood
Bear as a witness against this man, might this be becoming
More a confession instead of a respite; I plan to go eastward
Sooner if this man fails to eventually cease to embarrass
Both of us with all the weeping; as this thought crosses my mind, he
Turns and desists in a croak of extolling, and says, If it should be
Troubling hearing a man shed tears, as it were all behind me,
Then it reflects no repentance unless it is genuine. Truly
Spoken, perhaps it is warranted; speaking again, he proceeds in
Earnest: As God is in heaven, He is sorry, and wounded in spirit,
Having endured the injustice of man; is it God in His needs sin
Offerings? that is no truth, it is man, it has always been man that
Needed the Lord, He is well to do whether we perish by sword or
Passing of days; is it this, the appropriate punishment, having
Spoiled entirely everything good He bestowed, by disorder?
After he spoke, and before he continued, a sand cloud swept forth
Over us, which interrupted his thoughts — this caused us to cough for
Several moments until it had passed — once this dust cloud blew
North, and away from both of us, speaking continued: We offer
What we are asked by the Lord as a meeting of heaven and earth, such
That He requires a sacrifice from us reflecting the value
Placed it from man, that God needs nothing to drink nor to dine on;
God meets man on the mountain, descending to earth; if He shall do
Favors in Israel, thus He requests that priests climb what great
Mountain His cloud is upon; is it this truth that, in revealing
God in benevolent glory, condemns my behavior the more, that
Priests of Levitical order are taught of the letters, and yet feeling
Pressures of Israel’s people suffice to encourage a warped heart’s
Mortal impulses to burst forth; God made man to do, though He
Doesn’t make man do; in various temples in history, priests have
Slaughtered the prophets, and visions of Enoch of snowy
Temples in Heaven, engulfed in the flames of His judgment, as holy
Mysteries found in Ezekiel’s prophecies, show us in truth not
Bound in a time nor a place all the matters of light: at the right hand
Next to the Heavenly throne is the seat of the Word, by reproof taught
Jacob the struggle of good, at the river before he encountered
Esau; so when the Messiah descends to the land, and he beckons
Forth the eternally glorious kingdom, no rabbi of letters
Could be a witness; if Moses was never assumed to the heavens;
Israel struggled against Him and failed to see; Abraham served the
Angels and couldn’t perceive Him, and Isaac was never a witness;
Tobias traveled along by the side of an angel and knew not;
What is it that makes Hebrews so certain in letters, our fitness
That we are able to recognize when the Messiah is here, if
God should ever fulfill this prophecy — pausing to cough, he
Covered his mouth as a dust cloud moving again on the Mount of
Olives; we remained for a moment in silence, the tempest softly
Waned in response to the silence, and then it subsided completely;
Then, he returned to lamenting: The winds of Jerusalem blow in
Different directions today, such things were the signs the fall of
Nations before, and so Israel failed to repent, so we know when
Judgment is levied; the Lord has indeed been lenient: the nation,
Judges and kings, and the men of all Israel, driven away to
Strange lands, slaves in the nation we lived, and the covenant that God’s
Mercy restored is rejected again; it is wrong to obey who
Dwells on the earth and ignore Him in Heaven, we made this error
Over and over, it could be He never restores us; His healing
Comes and persists if we change, but if Israel never repents in
Full, when does God cease to restore us? indeed, I am feeling
That is today — as to punctuate, wind roared over his voice and
Swept an enormous amount of debris in upon us, and taking
This as a sign of divine revelation, he quickly arose and,
Hurdling forth, he invited me waving to join him in making
Haste, to go from this place through embers and sand, inasmuch I
Could understand — in the cover of cloud, we diminish our chances
That we are found — this spurred an encouraged retreat, on account of
God’s intervention, perhaps some irony that he advances
First; so in following, both of us head south, fleeing together;
Given the case that some Roman encampment positioned
Over the Mount was in chaos by this point, clouds of a dust storm
Over the Mount are enough to explain the approach propositioned
Needing no words; we arose all at once and we ducked down, hobbling
South as the cloud hung over us, merely enough time passed that
Both of us fled by Gehenna, the heap of Jerusalem long past,
From the original city, before the divide or the combat
Judah and Israel wrought, and together, we stumbled and kicked the
Sand out behind us, to shake the collection of dust in our sandals
Back at Jerusalem: willingly, merely a metaphor, matters
Not, as the message is clear: what histories, books, scrolls, annals,
Accounts, or psalms shall write of Jerusalem’s fall, and forgive us
What has repeated its razing: the Babylon Rome, the rebelling
Israel, priests and the raised dead, every parallel that is
Present today, a destruction abetted by God for His dwelling?
from the mouth of the grave • Jerusalem razed
encountering a Sadducee • upon the Mount of Olives
slain for abominable sacrifice • fleeing Zion