Poem by R.M. Dolin, January 30, 2024
Who Wins the War
Legend and lore tell a tale of the brokenhearted boy
on the edge of becoming a man who plunges into
inconsolable despair when the woman
he intends to forever love is lost.
His father reasons in vain for hope
and happinesses yet unrealized,
but the profound depth of darkness
can’t be overcome by the meagerness of words.
So, he sends his son into the wilderness
to ponder a paradox.
“Two black bears face off on a flat-top mesa
in the heat of late day sun failing to provide
the protection of shadows. The aggressor bear’s bruised
and battered from countless confrontations
and continually being boxed in with no way out.
His blinding rage so consuming
it can’t be satiated, his need to lash out so dangerous
consequences can’t be constrained.
The opponent he’s backed onto the baren rocks
is reluctant to fight.
His timidness is born from a lack of life’s bitter lessons
but bolstered by kindness
and an inherent belief when a cause is just
or a burden heavy, responsibilities matter.
The question dear son, is which one wins their war?”
Heeding his father’s caution that such answers ripple
through one’s life, the young man journeys
well beyond the wilderness edge to places where
wind and sun dare not disturb and there he meditates.
First for an hour, then for a day, until several days pass.
The father doesn’t worry knowing from his time
in the wilderness such questions need to permeate
the deepest reaches of a soul. Late one afternoon
as dusk settles over the quiet courtyard
where youth and innocence once roamed free,
the boy on the edge of manhood bursts through
his father’s front gate, his face alive with excitement.
“I’ve found the answer!” he shouts above the tranquil quiet,
“but only by becoming the bears.
First, I was the rageful bear, for his mask
is the easiest to wear.
I delved deep into his darkness that knows no light,
places so scarry words become blurred,
so empty only hollowness can escape.
While lost in this void and fearful for every step,
I find the bear reluctant to fight, for his mask
is difficult to don.
Goodness is always encased by darkness,
yet the reluctant bear is mostly unafraid.
His pain though is profound, every punch,
every loss, hurts like a recursive echo,
yet he finds the strength to heal,
to forgive both himself and others. . .but mostly himself.”
The father triumphantly smiles, “so, who wins the war?”
The young man lunges forward hugging
his father in what can best be described as
an exuberant bear’s embrace and whispers,
“The bear who wins dear father,
the one strong enough to prevail
in such an existential war,
is the one you feed.”
A simple moral for our times, written at the Miami airport while waiting for a plane to Dallas and remembering a lesson someone shared with me as young man.
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