Brought to Tears - Judith Stone

[Larry Robinson]

Brought to Tears
 
I weep in the middle of a story more often
than in the midst of real life events.
In story the meaning is so compressed. 
Whole lives crowd into a few pages.
The bible is an entire library, and
you can carry it in a backpack.
 
Every story has direction
every detail has intention 
if only in rhythm or ornamentation. 
And by the end, a story makes 
some kind of sense;
even if it is unbearable.
Both the beauty and the suffering!
 
In my life so much is arrived at by
meandering paths, all the branching
directions., Sometimes the meaning 
Is missed or unclear. Other times I go by a way
that is not chosen, but imposed
the way snowflakes express themselves:
we can see, but only under a magnifying glass
that hidden forces inform their crystalline beauty.
 
In our common lives front-page news is random:
The Pope, or the symphony will be in town.
Or the County Fair, an advance in neuroscience or
Another ecological disaster strikes, usually
in a region already decimated by poverty,
A new planet has been discovered with moons, 
a five-year-old wins a spelling bee.
A gourmet recipe delights foodies. Or wine.
And all this happens simultaneously. Random 
violence repeating itself  the world over,
not resolving. And there is so much suffering 
like starvation, it overwhelms . It overwhelms.
 
In story, an author’s intention is more clear:
an ecology of lives and their patterns, the
designs leave a glittering trail like a snail
a narrative of the way we found. Of suffering 
redeemed. Of lessons learned. Or a poem,
Its word music bringing us to tears. 
 
	- Judith Stone