Nighttime Offered no Applause

Nighttime Offered no Applause

(“They tested God again and again, and provoked the Holy One of Israel.” Psalm 78:41)

We stomped out conflagrations on the desert side of the mountains,
we were watchers, we were the vigilant, we spotted the first flumes
from our high towers. In a season so dry we watched unblinking.
We did not cower before the hundredth call to choke the flames
that flapped crisply, giant wings threatening to engulf our diligence.

But then the fires raged exponentially, rained heated ash and glowing embers
behind every advance of its sinister army. Barely with breath sufficient
for one skirmish, the fires sucked all the oxygen from the ground,
from the sky, from the know world we had searched, and surely
well beyond. This giant non-breathing dragging inhaled everything;
left us less respirations than a walk after summer’s lunch.

No one gave up; hope was shouted from line to line. No one
went home; photos in our wallets folded tight kept us reminded.

I remembered leaving home, out the front door, down the street,
merging with others along the East Bay Corridor, through the
Caldecott, over the Bay Bridge, paying for parking heart-center
of the financial district. Alone. Here was my territory, here were
my clients. Though the clients were future to this cold-call artist.

The street is rarely sunny, until you reach the pier. Any season
other than summer
you may find the sun in patches for a two o’ clock sack lunch. But.

I was unreimbursed; though I had rehearsed every word, my worries
and anxiety pushed me forward. I could only lose if I refused.

I lost something then; the fire and finance district. There was more
than I could do; less than I could discover. In my early wonder,
before cash and college and marriage and children. It was archaeology
that knew my name; where digging gave me plenty of reasons for
the dirt under my knuckles. Yet, I am sure, I would have tested
and tested

God’s good faith just the same; caused Him pain because
I cried so easily when the curtains closed, the day was over,
and the nighttime offered no applause.