Psalm 1000 A.D.: When Saints Cyril and Methodius Came to Poland

Nancy Rakoczy

‘Come out,’they said.

We looked out from cover of dappled leaves and deep green shadows.

bugs paused to consider.birds held their breath.

come out? we could see them they couldn’t see us

And they called to us in what voices.

the sky etched our eyelids redthe air quivered.

We would never think to leave the forest, never. Neverwhat are they kidding?

silent wings beat the airthe grass stood at attention while we considered.

the forest where we had lived forever our fathers and our mothers, and their fathers and their mothers forever.

The green was in our blood.

Yes, many times when I’ve been cut

I’ve seen it flow green Yes I was in the trance but I tell you the truth.

‘Come out.’Could we leave the shadows to

play without us?‘Come out.’And we couldn’t think why not.why not?

all they had to do was say come and we came.

Wild men they were ohyes they were the wild ones.

we thought we were

but no, never like them never like that.

Truly their eyes were on firewe saw thatdazzled by their fierce light that could cut the green in half and burn down our forest with a glance. when we saw their eyes we stayed hidden to watch and wait.

‘Come out,’ they said and left gifts for us like we were gods who had to be approached with careful hands. We liked that yes we did.

No one, no one had ever left gifts for us like we were gods.

How we sang and laughedThey must have confused us with the gods

we said laughing.

then they came back.

I tell my unruly spirits to quiet so I can think.

I must write this down before anything more is lost

how much we have forgottenbut they’ve shown us writing and now nothing will be lost anymore.

Only think what it means when the priestess takes off her leather apron and sits on wood and looks to their fierce eyes and listens to their stories and listens.

Bits and pieces of baby skulls were in their stories just like ours,

but things were so mixed up: a king who hated babies and had so many so many killed it stopped my breath. A wild woman who talked to spirits and ran from this king child in arm her child planted in her like a seedling allatonce.

The trees that pulled up their roots to hide the little family running from the mad king.

the soldiers with their bloody arms ready to strangle one more.

We walked out of the forest. No one forced us what you think someone made us? me? maybe it was just time, time fulfilled like they said past time due time.

We left the forest.They talked to usand here I sit slowly writing

forming letters carefully each curve a caress of my pen.

careful not to lose a single thoughtnothing will be lost anymore

I promise the fathers and mothers long dead the old uncles nothing will be lost anymore I promise.

I must write down each word one at a time so as not to lose a single thought.

that first night after they left we looked up

and the stars told us deeper things than we had ever known before.

the stars rearranged themselves into deeper patterns

that showed us who we werethat is when I took off my leather apron.

No one had ever talked to us like that beforeWhere did they get such words?

Wild men they were with fierce burning words and wild eyestheir stories better than ours we sit down on their benches after the day’s work to hear more.

I have given up my leather skirt.

I have buried the bits of baby skulls.

I have planted the last of the spring flowers in the iron-dark earth.

I have kept my dagger.

I have sewn shut the mouth and eyes of the old gods

mute and blind before these men and their storiesstoriesstories.

once we pulled strength only from the earth.

now we gather it from the one nailed to the final tree.

I have quieted my spirit

I have calmed my soul.

I have kicked my unruly spirits like the rabid dogs they are barking and yapping outside

begging me let them back in/ but I won’t let them back in

I must think let me think in peace.

we stepped out of the forest when they called

no one had ever talked to us like that

how did we know to do this?

I am thankful that we did.

we are deafened and dazzled

the old uncles are pleased

I left my leather skirt and apron at the old altars

the fire is in the eyes of my people my clan

only in God is my soul at rest.