Nepharim and The RiderThe Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of man and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men who were of old, the men of renown. ” (Genesis 6:1–4, ESV) Man from elsewhere riding the roads along ridges, rugged metamorphic rock going somewhere, gripping the wheel, turning trying to turn the world around, traveling hair pin curves, the edge of each crevice a tight rope, he drives mountain after mountain another and another following the spinal cord of convergent tectonic shifts mountains from millennials past, Rider racing, racing night after night to discover the escapee, the at large the previously incarcerated, and others previously unknown, to extract from the shelter of forests an enemy, fugitive who created carnage from annihilation of ancient people, to this day all evil remains the same his anger fuels him , his prey have been makers of genocides, mass murderer of his people of the mountains he trembles a little, recalls the photos of a scene, a web of blood and charred bones, 108 miles from an interstate, Hamlet identified by milepost sign, three boulders past road mile marker 96, left turn descending destination altitude 830 feet above sea level population 120, 63 shot and burned in small church. Meth lab explosion Fugitive at large, believed to be near roadmile 96, Snow falls, white powder snow, wonders the man how steep the road leading down where, down where, down where, wipers articulating his heartbeat, 63 people shot they had a stranger in a church kitchen permitted shelter for just a week, no trouble, a hunter waiting out the storm, church empty until Sundays, something went wrong. in the kitchen, cooking kettle a caldron of the new milnial 53 miles from middle of nowhere interstate, corridor infrequently explored , no cell service, State Police describe clan of mountain people, hunters, lumberjacks, small farms, workers in sawmills, linemen gas or gas and electric company, river guides, fishermen they said it appeared to be a faulty gas line not that newsworthy but someone sent a message proving even Meager lives are meaningful lives, and evidence was overlooked innocently but there was no innocence left mostly overlooked were those lives, lives merciful to others, lives where people loved, lives though those alive mutated, maimed, mangled, marred now deformed as the ridges of the metamorphic Allegheny cliffs, Survivors of the village's hospitality extended to a stranger , thought they themselves considered their offering paltry, inconsequential, insubstantial people as they feel they are perceived by others The Rider and others saw fruitful, content, industrious peaceful, loving, satisfied simple sincere, sanctified Now judged by the outside world, what were they, oh, ("Sure, trying to make some money, they deserved it" or "Lucky it went down out there , not here") Where one world affluence matters more than another, where in one world, old way of life, won't fit with the norm, now no matter -erased absent extinct ended not by boulder, avalanche not disease or drought by penitent The wipers chant a language he does not know the blades echoe a mechanical heartbeat the only sound on this road Here , the marker, man stops, opens window, cold mountain air, snow blowing on his face , his face in the mirror the color of the ash on corpses in the photo On the dash the page with a sketch The penitent one who fed on blood leaving carnage among cottages in poor secluded towns, considered by society unmeritorious of time, of scrutiny or concern Man turns on radio static, crackles, descending into snow, as if ashes of the dead leading him destination unknown fugitives hideout a cabin, a barn, on an unmapped road a turnaround, perhaps it must always be night, this forray, he parks the resentful vehicle turns off his lights opens the door ,a flashlight, cuts branches,covers his jeep At daybreak he will explore ,there below him a shack pale yellow light -should he wait, return to the road, is his igloo camo good, will it keep? As he awaits the dawn other memories drift through his half sleep and other nights when alone he explored a city street rumor held the fugitives had friends to meet, instead the house they planned to rob housed a family of four with many riches inside to keep The woman , when he opened the door and wanted as bride when he saw her he knew she would never lie. From a window above Norwegian Pines she cannot sleep, bright stars, no snow at her home on another mountain peak. Her telescope a vestigial reminder of scholarly endeavors she did complete Jupiter with perennial striations seems as far away as her dreams He is not, she feels, quite so safe. No cell service, no city streets he rides at night, another mission to complete. Constancy his primary trait The mission is immortal always a hunter, always a hunted His hunt becomes imperishable his mission perpetual taking on a life of it's own, his parameters defined, of the other few facts are known He is The Sheriff of Nottingham to some chasing the ultimate thief into the night as the underworld rises, encroaches propagandizes, poisons and decimates His choice to care about those left behind She loves him more than music, more than Jupiter, more than an ocean She left for the forests for him she loves him, it makes her complete She loves him throughout the absence She loves him more than her fear She wonders does he love her more than to leave her as are those he chooses to avenge, through his find, his hunt, the powers of his mind, does he love her more than he cares about those madman would leave behind and will she one day be a woman a good man left behind, will she die in a forest. a wasteland of gray and white under a blue sky away from the ocean a sapphire blue under sun all the time a coastline soft with sand sand the color of snow, sometimes She will love him until the end of time. He saved her family When the men came in through an open window with a smoke bomb then the open door they thundered in "What you in here for" "Damm they are all inside get what you can, " Then "Shut up or die" He came to the door, "If you are hiding these men I have a warrant, stand back," They were not hiding the penitent For hours the club had been inside Rider found her father crawling on the floor, her mother collapsed, cancer patient, who was observed by a club searching for drugs none they wanted, apparently, medications cast aside with more cursing, "What's this for?" in his hand a blood pressure cure. So they raped in rage Justice comes invaders see the man they begin to shake, she barely remembers moments did pass she fell in love with his shin, his shin conquered all of their jin. Her family consider him as God Sent. Her love whorls between obelisks of petrified frozen firs and Norwegian Pine Her love flows through meandering streams, Her loves' metamorphosis became bedrock. He moves mountains a General now, keeps his Riders deep in darkness he follows their drive vigilant eternally over only good sworn to keep. Then treads softly in his home, his world, that is all about him anyone has known The Riders he guides save people they stand side by side. And You and I When this dancing ocean Breaks on bone white sand Under a turquoise sky and you And I When Shadows as thin as palm fronds Appear under the cloudless sky Press our hands into the sand Earth imprints As for the ocean, we make No impression on water at all A splash perhaps You have a location and time as well as a season. Drifting aboard a small craft We are carving Coconuts into masks Waiting for fish to bite. As innocent as trilobites The azure ocean, the turquoise sky Slack white sail, And you And I One fish, one lime and soy Ceviche from the catch Coconut water We equalized ourselves Released the anchor Just wind and water And sky, some fish And time goes by And you And I The Piazza D’Espania Where the architecture marble or stonework carved Into roccocco and lace Were 10, then again Years did go by A chance enounter at the St Moritz Again our parents seated apart With other guests , sipped on wine as A second course was warmed. The Saint Moritz with the interior design Including a manmade stream with bridge and armored guards A pond of carp You claimed the minestrone was the best Asked the M’aitre D to serve us On the bridge, and he did You explained carp were creature We could pet, and we did, From the bridge in the lobby As our parents discovered We made an adorable couple[ “They, “ all four said, That was Us, We were 14 I guess. And you and I returned To their lives, we the gift with which they were blessed, or So everyone said, This pattern of crisscrossing lives Seemed to be netted by A dream catcher, as we would meet By chance on some other city street Just you And I Pleasant conversations, by now our memories A platform for discussion and coffee house Or someplace to rest our feet. Once you said, most would not remember As years did go by of a conversation between children by a fountain, as their parents Sipped campari at different tables nearby There were concerts and again Were You And I You vanished but returned by 10 p,m. At the gates as I left with my friends Gave me a dozen roses, said “I’d like to see you again,” You held a paper, about the draft I gave you a pen, Now we were anchored by places and Numbers would not have to meet by Chance again Lit candles for you took up my pen And time went by for you and I Twenty years you happened to see News of me in some city paper with an award Or something considered merit by a someone With a pen. Came to find me, seemed to Be the jig saw puzzle of life Or destiny. Soon became more Than a “Sometime I’’ ll see you, friend.” It can be your life, It can be your life forever Willfully away from whatever And so indeed we met again You came to Saipan you said Just to find me, we remember more, most Mensan's memories are more like ghosts they come alive as if a film we saw again the world when we met,we were 10, Married you under an azure dome Pacific sky and our Saipan island home I loved you more than atoms hold tight loved by day and loved you at night You loved me in stillness under stars into the deepest parts of all and became we one night the vessel prepared to voyage a short time until fuel and cargo were replenished and in just a few days, The fax sent to me, so briefly said, Kathryn, The Captain is dead. I drown by day and swim in strange seas at night, every day and every night and you and I are still some glue holding me here and away from where God is holding you. For Marcus ℅ His Point in The Fourth Dimension |
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