A Student

 

A Student

 

Today he climbs the hill to the Grandfather.

He will learn his letters,

And learn about the LEKTRIK

(E-lektrik says the Grandfather).

And how the lightning of the summer storms,

That play across the parched lands south,

How that lightning is made of LEKTRIK,

And how the Old Ones once controlled it.

And that it was both bad and good,

And that it was part of the Troubles,

And was part of what made the world what it now is:

Part frozen,

Part desert.

And he would learn how men lived in both,

And how each thought the other fools.

And he would learn to read the signs,

To know when the weather would change,

When the herds would return,

Which of the plants would heal,

And which would kill.

Soon the journey south would begin,

To the green lands too shallow,

Claimed by too many.

He was glad his mother would travel,

Best with the bow in his tribe.

His father dead,

Or taken,

It mattered not which,

Gone is gone.

Now he would learn his letters,

And would not care what the big boys said,

For his mother says he has the Gift,

And can see the hidden things of this world,

And the hidden behind the words of others,

So too says the Grandfather.

And that man cautioned against making much of it,

That others would not trick him in his pride,

But the Grandfather also said he would know.

And that was the thing:

He knew.

He always knew.

So, he would learn his letters,

And all the things he did not yet know.

Not yet…

 

Cliff Lake 2/14/2024

Copyright © Clifford Lake