Maybe They're Already Here

Blessed the man

who met his wish of them.

He will not be muddled

when he treat with his enemies

at the gate.

~Nisi Dominus, Antonio Vivaldi

He tried to remember what they said, in that book, long ago. He read it as a child and was frightened by it. But curious. Wanting to know.

The question:

"Dad, will they ever come back?"

The answer: "No, and yes."

Not back as they were. Not in the same shape. Never in the same shape. But back, always. Maybe by sunrise, maybe by noon, surely by evening.

The answer: We have to watch.

And maybe they're already here.

A few spins forward. A few spins back, Ten spins back, and after the spins upon spins, back and forth, back and forth, one is leader of the show, of the freaks, of the carnival.

Maybe they're already here.

And he remembered the hope: "The City Hall clock, the Baptist church clock, the Methodist, the Episcopalian, the Catholic church, all the clocks, struck twelve." Where they had never agreed before to the time.

Who we are now may not be who we become. We may become happier, holier, more sane, more jovial, more rested and restful. More curious and caring, more daring and wise.

We may become sadder, more soiled, more bitter, more dark, more resented and resentful. More desperate and grasping, more craven and weak.

We have to remember to listen to the bells. Do they chime in chorus with the rest, making beautiful sounds, marking the time correctly, announcing to the world our joy, our sorrow, our unity and bravery? Or are we cacaphonous, dissonant, never agreeing with what the other heathen bells have to say, never really listening to our own bells but highly critical -- always critical of the timing and tune the others exhibit. Damning others for forgetting the jig when we think we and only we know the tune.

Thus pealed the bells more loud and deep,

God is not dead, nor doth he sleep.

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

with peace on Earth, good will to men. 

Together, remember. And not be muddled when we treat with our enemy. Together.

Else, as the other said, "If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face— forever."

Yes, there are laws to be obeyed. Obedience makes for an ordered society and laves much room for joy.

But if they are already here, laws can become corrupt. Obedience can become blind and order for some is anarchy for others. If we see the boot and feel not pity for the oppressed no matter their crimes, real or imaginary, but relief that we do not see our face in its whited piety, then they are already here.

They have been with us all along.