the following was written by someone from a site i frequent who suffers from Crohn’s Disease. for those that don’t know, crohn’s disease is chronic Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD). The cause and the cure are not known.
to make a donation towards the research into IBD, you can visit these sites:
Canada: http://www.ccfc.ca/English/involve/giving.html
USA: http://www.ccfa.org/donate/?LMI=5
UK: http://www.nacc.org.uk/content/fundraise.asp
*****
One evening, I felt a small spark in the darkness.
I said, “Who is there?”
He said, “It is I.”
I said, “Go away.”
He said, “I will not.”
As the days went by, the spark became a small tongue of flame.
I said, “Have you not left?”
He said, “I have not.”
I said, “You will not bother me.”
He said, “I will devour you.”
As the weeks went by, the tongue of flame flared into a bright fire.
I said, “You must leave me.”
He said, “I am already part of you.”
I said, “You will not drag me down. I will praise my God.”
He said, “I dwell within your body and mind. I will become your master.”
As the months went by, the flame grew into a blazing inferno.
I said, “I cannot take much more.”
He said, “You will receive much more.”
I said, “My God is stronger than you. He will take you away.”
He said, “Where is your God? How long have you already been crying to Him?”
I had no answer.
As the year past, the inferno became a roaring conflagration.
I said, “I am finished.”
He said, “It is only the beginning.”
I said, “My hope is in the Lord.”
He said, “I have already taken away your hope for this life.”
I was certain that I would be completely consumed.
I said, “I can no longer eat.”
He said, “I am with you all day.”
I said, “I can no longer sleep.”
He said, “I am with you all night.”
Late one night I was suddenly torn wide open. The flames grew even greater, then the conflagration diminished and became an inferno, the inferno died down and became a fire, the fire fizzled and became a flame, and the flame flickered out.
As he departed, in the pre-dawn light I caught a glimpse of his hideous face, the sharp teeth in his drooling mouth, his stooped back, and the huge, hook-like claws on his hands and feet.
I said, “You must never come back.”
He said, “I have left my mark upon you. I will return some day to claim what is mine.”
I said, “But you have left me with nothing.”
He said, “Until I come back, I leave my curse upon you. You will no longer hope for the future, for every day you will fear my return. I will be in your thoughts and in your dreams. I am already so much a part of you that you will not feel alive without me. In my absence, I will still be your master.”
As the days went by, I felt strangely empty.
As the weeks went by, I began to seek him out so that I would once again feel alive.
As the months went by, I entered the pit of depression, and anger ruled me.
As the year past, I felt I was already dead and wanted to end it all.
Then one day, I felt a gentle touch in the shadows.
I said, “Who is there?”
She said, “It is I.”
I said, “I have already been destroyed.”
She said, “I will walk through the fire with you.”
I said, “I cannot bring my suffering upon you.”
She said, “Together we will worship our God.”
As the days went by, I felt wary.
As the weeks went by, I felt surprised.
As the months went by, I felt a growing love, and I dared to hope.
As the years past, new life began to flourish within me and I was glad he was gone.
Then one evening, I felt a small spark in the darkness.
- Joshua Jones
*****
one of the things i like about this piece is that it has a universal… not exactly “appeal,” but more like it invokes a universal empathy. although it was written about the poet’s experience with crohn’s disease, his poem isn’t limited to that. the suffering is personified as a living fire and the metaphor does a wonderful job of portraying the all-consuming pain and despair that he suffered from.
also, although the poet is able to arise from the murky depths of despair with the help of “She” (bringing along the reader as well), the very last line snaps us back to the reality of it all and a very palpable fear is reinforced. no information of what happens afterwards is given in the poem, but it’s not necessary. while the small spark is not the all-consuming pain, it is the prelude of it. the point isn’t whether or not it goes away again, but that it can reappear at any time.
nothing i could have written in my introductory blurb could have better conveyed the suffering that is caused by IBD’s than what joshua wrote. so again, if you feel like donating, here are those links from the top:
Canada: http://www.ccfc.ca/English/involve/giving.html
