An Answer to Poe

[Ford Nettleton]

An Answer to Poe
By Ford Nettleton

Once upon a morn fortuitous, while I pondered deep and curious,
Sitting before a speaker expositing sacred words of yore---
While I nodded, nearly sleeping,
suddenly there came a weeping,
born of dread for the reaping
of all my wrongs committed on all the days before.
An inconvenient thought I conjured,
Only this and nothing more.

Ah, distinctly I remember,
it was in blest December,
When many celebrate the splendor
of Messiah’s virgin birth.
Restlessly, I wished for an ending
to the stated unrelenting
darts against my soul’s transcending
fall and lack of worth.
For I thought that I was moral.
All my deeds were lawful, normal for a man, a mortal
treading the ground of Earth.
Only treading the ground of Earth.

Now, the wounding did compound
for my soul heretofore was ground
in mortal man’s profound debt to the law.
“False,” claims the speaker.
This tenet is insufficient,
for there is One who is Omniscient,
whose justice demands payment proficient to satisfy the law.

So, I left the congregation, puzzled by my situation,
for the internal conflagration
still unexplainably roared.
How to extinguish such a burning,
for my soul was strangely yearning
for a pardon concerning the offenses that I now abhorred.
Only my offenses that I now abhorred.

Was I born with a flaw, an existential defect
that grew with every violation of the law?
Did I unconsciously reflect and become cogent
of their effect on my self-respect,
the sum of these transgressions?
Thus, I labored with a burden,
often known, sometimes spartan,
seeking desperately some elusive pardon.

I resolved to disregard
those wrongs which now marred
my soul scarred with guilt.
Oh, forget them, though they are many.
Others have them, a gracious plenty.
Can they be absolved to where there aren’t any?
Away with them, they are forgotten, buried in the past, misbegotten,
but in my heart, I knew they were rotten.
A rot that I had built.
Only a rot that I had built.

And this rot, it did continue,
consuming my soul, muscle, bone, and sinew,
when again I journeyed back to that venue.
Now, the time was spring.
New birth, blooming flowers, longer days that bring
light spread upon the earth as I saw and heard creation sing.
Back in that place so familiar,
there again stood the same robed figure
who had reduced my worth to a sliver.
Would the injury reoccur?
Feigning confidence, I was somewhat unsure
that my defenses were sturdy and secure.
Oh, again came the deluge,
heightened by my ill-sought refuge
and a forgetting that my soul did refuse.
Only my soul refused.

Why this strange reaction?
Something outside of me recalled these malefactions,
and I could not reduce them to abstraction.
So I would embrace them, and the great judge, I will replace HIM
with friendlier thoughts --- concepts generous to my suffering soul.
These new ideas would bring absolution,
the wrongs declared dissolved in a resolution
to be virtues, and not pollution.
For who would label them violations?
Without a Judge, nothing brought creation,
freeing us to name the contamination.
Only a free naming of contamination.

But alas, this brought merely brief satisfaction,
a temporary peace, a minor retraction
for these theories were from mortal factions.
And what do these mortals know of creation’s dawn,
of the galaxy's echelon or the Spirit’s pantheon?
Do they know the eternal consequence of their doctrines,
the human frailty in their concoctions, and the damage caused by their adoption?
For I could see their history and knew of their caused misery,
a benedictory over wars, famines, purges, holocausts, and genocides.
Who could propose doctrines whose faults time would not expose?
A way to tread the ground of Earth that would not to dust decompose.
Not to dust decompose.

Thus, my longing was not sated,
and in my mind, I berated
the speaker's words and put aside this creed which I now hated.
For this religion brought me grief,
a troubled soul without relief,
with a proposition to make another my chief.
For it claimed I needed a Shepherd,
one to whom my soul was tethered,
and this idea I abhorred.
Still in my soul came this weeping,
a constant seeping of a need that was deepening,
Only a deepening, constant need.

So back again, I wandered to be under the word on a cold December morn.
Why, I cannot tell you; I do know that something drew me to that place I now did scorn
proposing a tenant I had killed and did not mourn.
And came again the sorrow
which from the prior did not borrow
a verve new and stronger,
making me again dread the morrow.
Only dread the morrow.

Then amidst the hearing,
a new clarity began appearing.
A germ of faith captured me,
and the domineering dread began disappearing.
This bud of hope came not from me but from above.
I claim no title, no authorship, no reason other than love,
To this belief, I had been dead … cold, dry bones that could not move.
My soul lay in a tomb,
a restless, depressed room from
which that bud of faith did bloom,
and the dread dissolved in love.
Only dissolved in love!

With this faith, I began repenting,
forgiveness seeking, others ascending,
and Deity assenting.
Now my burden lifted,
a heavy yoke replaced, removed, and gifted
to a Redeemer whose yoke was light.
That yoke I embraced as my former burden shifted.
Graciously, the burden shifted.


Now, as I abide,
I live for the One by whom I was freed,
Who died and rose again, for me His righteousness will plead
and satisfy my need.
The law can now teach and guide,
casting light on my path to reach
My purpose … the reason I was placed on Earth’s ground
For we are not here randomly.
That idea is an absurdity,
proposing all came about spontaneously.
Only a random absurdity.

Then fruits began to appear: love, joy, peace, and patience drew near and cast out the fear.
To my soul, these virtues came to dwell
as deadly sins of old began to quell
and loosen their once-ironclad hold.
Not fully in, nor fully out, for I live in mortal man’s abode
A house of deterioration, but with a reborn soul,
knowing one day, the omnipotent One who is in control
will redeem his broken world and people and make all things new and whole.
All new and whole.

Therefore, if you ask a scholar, theologian, or even a bird
If, after coming from this creation magnificent
there is a distant Aidenn wherein absent defilement
loved ones reside with the Omnipotent,
recall the sacred word
Wherein promises are made by One who is, was, and will be forevermore
Whose word is true, deceiving nevermore,
and there you can dwell evermore
Graciously dwell evermore.