By: Maddy D.
[A note: This is based on Ötzi the Iceman, the wonderfully preserved 5,300-year-old mummy found in a glacier some years back. This is meant to be read as more poetic in verse.]
And we will sit there and watch the threads of dawn weave their way across the sky. Just sit there, you and I. You with your glazed wonder, and I with all my questions, we’ll greet the same morn. You’ll be cold, I know you will. You’ll be full of unanswered questions and broken words. I’ll be the selfish one. I’ll be the one that speaks; I’ll be the one that questions the air and take it away from you. What good is the wonder, when your questions are captured by a different voice? Burning in your still heart, seizing with the blood in your veins, fluttering behind the eyes, the caged bit of soul that never leaves?
So many questions, so many unknowns, what-ifs. What sort of selfish being I am, to steal your breath, like the ground that steals your heat. You don’t need it anymore, you know. The questions, the light, the warmth. You don’t need it anymore. Give it to the sun, give it to the air, give it to the earth. But keep the questions, let me take them, let me set them free to the unending eye of the sun.
Don’t let it fester in your veins, don’t let them settle like a poison froth. There’s no need for that. I can take them, I can speak your tongue, fill in for your heart. Surely when I receive my answers, you will receive yours. It’s the least I can do, my Brother, my kin. Trust me with the words that trembled with your weak breath, trust me to hear the ghost of whispers that leave your frozen lips. Trust me to hear, trust me to seek the truth behind this day.
Trust me with your soul, my brother. Trust me to keep it safe- our little secret. There is no need to haunt me so, no need for your shadow to latch onto mine. No need to stalk me in the nights, wailing like the wind and hissing like the snow. No need when I take nothing of yours, other than your questions, your knowledge, the very essence of the truth.
No need when we sit here, you and I. Sit here as long lost friends once more, this mere accident surely set aside? No need when someday, I pray none too soon, I will be just as cold as you. Broken and severed questions hanging on my lips. But I will have your answers by then, my brother. When we sit here to watch the dawn thread into the sky on another morn.
Edited by: Anna Grace Dulaney