Those Bones Unset

Those Bones Unset

There was a certain augury presence about him
Just as a man with bones broken, not properly mended, predicts the weather for a lifetime
So too this man had an empirical sense of future pain

But pain is a generic unworthy of this man’s knowledge
What cognomen could accurate describe the level of his gifting
Or the complexity of the foreknowledge in some cases even knowing the great Why

Yet this gift was not without its cruel blindness
In matters of greatest import and most personal immediacy
When injustice crouches and not out of weariness but rather perfect evil intent

Too watch horror’s repetition which demands of us a response
Not unlike the children of Medusa and yet to be calloused is to be immature
So we chisel away the stone a speck at a time.

Then we become as Sisyphus, knowing unending repetition
The young don’t intuit that stone grows as fast as it can be chiseled
Patience and perseverance are being taught they say

However unlike the 300 no rescuers follow
Alas even Greece falls eventually, and in our day men are turned to ashes
Fools warm themselves by the furnaces at Auschwitz, Sobibor and Triblinka, knowing not the fuel

Only to this “gifted man” do patience and perseverance sound
Well, so similar to arbeit macht frie
Their purveyors have read much about such matters but are void of ontology

This pain portended, born of man’s knowledge of the divine reaches it crescendo,
How can this be, what does God have to do with man’s evil
“Theodicy” echoes from the broken bones that will not heal

The bones refuse to heal in order to stand as a testament to an odd syllogism
A God who knows of evil and injustice and who is powerful enough to stop it and doesn’t
Has not love

Thus the “gifted man” measures his knowledge of pain by his knowledge of his creator’s apathy