Whilst exploring the electric seas of the interwebs I came across a poem that I had never read before called, "Sometimes a Wild God," by Tom Hirons.
I read it.
Then I read it again.
It resonated with me. So, before I color your view of it, I believe it only fair that you have a chance to come to your own conclusions. The poem, read by it's author, Tom Hirons with illustrations by Rima Stains, can be found here: Sometimes a Wild God.
Now, while you consider this piece please allow me to prattle on for a moment about art.
All art is subjective and a delicate dance between the creator and, for lack of a better word, the consumer. I use the word consumer but I do not mean monetarily, I mean that a piece or work has been discovered, used, and/or experienced. Art is that magical space where these two forces meet - creators and consumers. And this is where magic becomes real. No matter what the art form, it takes two to tango. Art tells us a story and stories connect us to a greater narrative than ourselves.
As consumers we are all at different places in our journeys and subject to the relentless nature of time. These factors influence the effect that art has on us at different time in our lives. Case in point, we could read a book when we are young and then read that same book ten years later and, due to maturity & life experiences, the book has different things to say to us. Things that we could not appreciate ten years ago. The same shift will happen ten years from now when we read that very same book. There are lessons to be learned - wisdom to be gleaned when we revisit art. That magic place, that dance between creator & consumer, can take on an unexpected depth over the course of years.
The author, the painter, the sculptor, the poet, the filmmaker, the musician, the vlogger, the creator brings it into the world, hones it by sanding down the edges, and eventually, releases it into the wild where it finds or does not find it's audience or those who will consume it. If it is discovered the dance can commence and the magic happens.
All that said, I find this poem magical. For me it speaks of the past and how we deal with things that are too much to process. The narrator is dealing with something from his past either some deep regret that he has done or some trauma laced abuse that was done to him. This is the Wild God. The Wild God is not in itself a force for evil - it is only a specter that the narrator has buried deep from himself and the world. He hasn't told his wife. The Wild God gets into the narrator's house even though he rejects him and while he is there the narrator avoids eye contact, gives him the "worst of his food," and ultimately pours the Wild God and himself a glass of whiskey - in effect drinking two glasses for himself all to push the Wild God away, to bury him again. The Wild God is a force of nature that wants the narrator to grow. "Why did you leave me?" the god asks. The answer is that the narrator does not want to face his own past. He would rather 'move on' with his life, but the Wild God is persistent and visits him when he least expects it. The narrator refers to scores of undead soldiers emerging from their tombs to fight the Wild God and these soldiers could easily be other defense mechanisms - other embattlements that he has put in place to protect himself from the past - from the Wild God. The psychological factor of the abuse that the narrator has suffered rings fresh with the final line of the poem, "His voice makes vinegar from wine and brings the dead to life." This shows that the narrator lives with his abuse at all times and the lengths he has gone to distance himself from it. Unfortunately for him, the trauma poisons his present tense and moments that he finds respite or joy are hijacked as his wine turns to vinegar at the memory of it all. And, in that moment the authors of said abuse, of said trauma, may even be dead now but his reluctance and/or inability to deal with his past ensures that they still live.
We all have our own Wild God. Perhaps it is trauma done to us or trauma that we have done to others. Coming to terms with the past is a deeply personal thing. I heard a wise man once say, "Love everyone. Forgive everyone. Especially yourself." Forgiveness can be acknowledgment of horror visited upon oneself, an opportunity for us to make peace with the past - not to pretend that all is well or to let the purveyors of said horrors off the hook, but to get oneself off the hook. A moment in time to say it was a moment in time and I will not let it define me. A moment to stop the past from defining ones future.
I found "Sometimes a Wild God' a thoughtful work. I hope you did too. I hope it moved you and I hope that you have peace. I encourage you to look further into Tom Hirons and Rima Staines. Two interesting artists that are most certainly worth your time to investigate in depth.
Until next time, Gentle Reader, I bid you adieu.
No comments:
Post a Comment