Fractured Segments, Consonants and Vowels

Fractured Segments, Consonants and Vowels

“’My daughter’s going to die! My daughter’s going to die!’ he pleaded. ‘Please come—lay your hands on her—rescue her and let her live!’” Mark 5:23

Below the hum of marketplace rustle there are the
bass notes of a parent in pain. Troubles wind through
his throat and land at the bottom of his feet. He has no
breath
to project his plea much further.
But there is an ear that hears all,
there are feet that come closer to discern
the consonants and vowels that explode underneath.
And he took those fractured segments and turned them
into a dirge
that heard the anxiety that felt like a bat trying to break
out of the crying father’s chest.

It was like standing in a whirlwind, slow motion,
it was a tornado of fear.
It was like the sun had forced its way past his eyes
and seared his aching heart. It was like the moon
did not
exist at all.

He could not contain the weight that smoldered inside his chest,
he could not choose anything other than this unrest
that blinded him to the fog of people swarming with
their constant hum and cajole. He could only see the one
he hoped would see him. He could only see the
shadows that fell fast over him.

“Come”, he said, not knowing the answer.
“She is dying,” he said, not knowing the outcome.

He heard nothing but the eyes that heard, and heard
feet that were ready to follow him home. Everything
was smoky,
was befogged,
was blurry,
as the healer listened and came to his home. Live or
die,
he knew his hope was tied to a stranger that acted
like a friend.