Chains - A Last Echo Of A Victorian Carol High up a shattered window is flung open. A ‘Splutch’ of snowmelt tumbles wetly to the ground. I look up and the stick figure scratches madly against the cold clear sky. He pumps out salvation from every angle, A body that had long ago forgotten joy, Now twitches with rivulets of unabashed wonder. Hope blazes out of his parchment skin, Friendship beams out of his gimlet eyes, And Salvation sings out in his cracked and reedy voice. He puts the angels to shame today, Singing a snatch of a half remembered tune to the accompaniment of the city bells, That is the symphony of redemption, Music and Grace made man. Though to mortal eyes he is just a crazy tatter, In night shirt and cap, Enraptured by the bells. He calls down to a boy, “What day is it?” The answer sets him dancing. I watch him now, I, another thing of wonder, But not of the day, I am of a darker order. Welded to death, I stand in the last patch of shadow on this morning of light, But even that scrap is melting, Being eaten by the sun. I draw myself in, I will watch whilst I can. I gather up my Chains and Chattels, My Links and Locks, My Boxes and Bonds... Festoon them around me. Now their coldness comforts me, I forged them, I own them, and now I understand that I must carry them. I thought I would feel envy, but when I see his chains dissipate, Become like Doves, and Children’s Laughter, and Hope, and Light, and melt away in the bright morning air, (Even while mine weigh on me still) I laugh! I thought that I would rage! I had imagined Litigations against the Almighty, Mustered my arguments and cases, “Where were my Ghosts? My Warnings? My Horrors? My Redemption? Does my soul, Sir, weigh so little in comparison to that scarecrow? Show me the Ledger! Show me the account in which I am held in such little worth!” All this and more had I prepared... And yet now, watching him babble about poultry, I find that bitterness will not come. I understand that this... This is my reward, this instant, and I’m ashamed to say my misers soul wants this to keep, I recognise the hunger, The gnawing need to lock away and hold. The sun creeps up another inch, “Draw yourself in Marley, Watch as much as you can. Don’t get banished to the night!” Then that child runs my way and straight through my form, I feel his soul shiver at the sliver of ice in mine, His spirit clings to me for an instant, Like a tongue to frozen iron, Then fleets away, But this lightest of contacts moves me... Moves me towards the light! “No, don’t let this end now! I will go back to the Grave, The Veil and the Web, The Tomb and the Torture soon! I’ll become Dust and Ashes and Moans and Sighs, The Rappings on Damask Covered Tables, The Whispers in Charlatans Ears, The Rattle of a Tamborine, The Dread, Damp, Dark corner of a Cellar, The Glint in an Undertakers eye, Soon! I will become the revenant and the shade again! I will become the Ghoul! I promise! The Ghast! The Memento Mori! The Despair! Soon, Soon,Soon! But not now! Let me stay one minute more!” But the urchin’s passing has wafted me like gossamer in the breeze, Unstoppable thistledown. “Just let me fix his face in my eyes, Let me ‘eat in’ his bliss, Let me take that back down with me, That is all I ask!” I claw at the stone world around me, Attempting to cram the remembrance of ecstasy into my soul... Purchase eludes me. I look up. The window is closed. He is gone. Dancing with his housekeeper no doubt. And still I move, Agonisingly slowly, Inevitably Unstoppable. I know I must go. My work is done. Spectral tears coursing down my cheeks as the light gets nearer. Anguished... But resigned... At last I drift into the sunlight... And... My chains dissipate, Become like Doves, Like Children’s Laughter, and Hope, and Light, and Warmth, and Love, and I melt away into the bright morning air.