Saturday, May 19, 2012

The Maid Tied to a Sea Weed Stalk

To some you seem a damsel,
All covered over in peril,
To be rescued by the dragon,
As little as a sparrow.
Yet how can they say to one another,
Let us save our sister or our brother?
For though they see you in distress
And more over in great duress,
They judge incorrectly the cause of it,
And therefore would be better to sit,
And wait for the cure to come in time,
Just as the end of this long made rhyme.

But damsel you are, of another sort,
One not for man to save, or presort
As he would any sort of mail or letter,
So many are chained up in a great fetter
Of assumption and misunderstanding.
Man, do listen, to my tale and sigh,
Understand her reason, the reason why
She takes upon herself to wait on a rock
In the middle of a sea tied to a sea weed stalk.
It is not enough that she be saved by man,
For there is nothing that man truly can
Do to save her from her dismal situation,
Of sorrow, of pain, and consternation.
And you might say, well I'll fix her right!
I'll chase away all that causes her fright!
I'll make her see! I'll teach her the meaning
Of what it means to be a woman! Such gleaning
You may desire for her to understand, by you.
But would it, if I may ask, would it of her be true?
Now you, young maid, all clothed in black,
Laid out for a dragon, like a monster's snack.
Do you sit there for a reason other than this?
That mankind scorns you, you cannot have bliss?
True, it is true, you are misunderstood,
None can understand you, none here would
Give themselves over to the study of your case
To understand the reason that your tear strewn face
Has been tear strewn for many long days,
As long as you discovered the truth of your ways.
But now I ask you, if it is your ways that cause
You to be afraid of society and the laws
That bind all men and women to the judge
Who makes, in some cases, chocolate fudge
Out of the most harmful situation there can be,
Then I tell you, not even the great sea
Has danger in it that should be feared;
Rather the difference should be revered.

The difference that holds you apart from them,
Those other women, and other men,
Should give you some pride, not much, but some.
For it's in that, you'll find, that you will have won
The meaning of your being, your creation! My dear,
If we are all the same, then we would have nothing to fear.
Yet it is clear that every being is different,
Each builds a different sort of tent.
And some would go so far to say that each
Who does not follow him or her, is a leach
That desires only to prey on those that are young;
But this tale is not yet finished, it's fullness not sung.

Who is to say that you are wrong in being?
Perhaps wrong from a knight who would say
I want to rescue you! From your terrible way!
But who is it that speaks to you of your ways?
Is he credible? Does he rightly have a say?
Know only that this being, this existence you hold,
Is still a part of God's design. Be then consoled.

To solve this riddle of the dragon and the girl
Who is tied to the stalk, upon a rock, in a whirl
Of sea mist and waves that crash upon the shore
Is to take from Wisdom, part of it's great store.
You see, each one of us is not the same in body,
The uniqueness makes for great specialty,
And gives each one of us a responsibility.
So while most of us, are one way or another,
Each of us, whether we be sister or brother,
Have a part to play in Gods greatest of plans,
And by that part we shall obtain the demands
Reward's, and be given over to heaven's gates,
Where we will find, for sure, first class rates!

But the case is this, that the design might be flawed;
For some have been made in a way that has awed
The populace into fear and distress.
And each of them have a great duress
That is equal in strength to the woman on the rock,
Tied to the seaweed stem, that wanton stalk.

But in truth, how can we, each one of us,
Truly see God's plan in the wanton truss?
Is she a wanton? Not at all, don't you see?
It's merely the fact that she's different than you or me.
Now for the deciding factor, that's what you want;
But you I fear not, no, my spirit you do not daunt!
It is true she is different, and that much is clear,
So you knights who desire to save her, don't fear.
Yet her sins, if they exist, are her own, not ours;
Just like many a man who goes crashing bars
Comes out drunk and mad, and revels in sin
Finds that he's got in store for him a great bin,
So she has her own sin, and it's her own to see:
For she was not made like you, or like me.
Will she accept that she is? And at once also say,
I cannot have what some have in the worldly play
Of love? Of family? Of hope in dreams to wed?
Can it be that I am an old maid instead?
Likewise I'd remind those knights that chastise
Such existence of being to now so arise
And make amends for their own sins that are,
For they have done much to crash the car
That is God's plan's for the men and women now
That have given themselves over to his prow.

I'll refrain myself from any more advice
On a subject I know little about. Like mice
Who cannot be trusted to build a construct,
A house, which must be build with a truck
That has a crane, a roller that flattens mud,
A digger that does not even have a thud...
The point is this, the damsel is not evil.
She is lovely, a fair, even to Evil Canivil!
Yet she was made different than you or me.
Just as the sky is different from the great sea.
So now, accept her for who she is,
By this you shall be certain to see,
She is capable of so much, just like you or me.  
Don't throw her out as a second rate love
That was given by God, from Heaven above.

Know now, see, that the damsel is all of us,
When we refuse to place in God our trust.

                      The Maid Tied to a Seaweed Stalk, (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

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