EPIC Poem: The Driver, by George Prigov

Once I spent an entire night
Dancing my soul away
In the light-pierced darkness
Of an Anglian forest
Between the fractal branches
Of looming trees
The silver-smiling full moon
Peered in silent, looming observation
Flames smouldered
Music swelled and waned like ocean waves
In Bacchic rite souls joined and split
And once the sun rose
Over fallow fields
The lost disciples dispersed
And made their pilgrimages home.

Here I was
At the side of a road
Running from nowhere to nowhere
The priestly robe and breastplate
Slowly fading with the lightening world
With my companions by my side
We set out on our return.

And here I called a taxi
A familiar rite of summoning
For that vehicle of liminality
That takes your from unknown to unknown
In mechanical anticipation

After eternal minutes
Upon that infinite highway of the soul
It arrives
Like the Divine chariot of Ezekiel’s vision
To deliver us from our wakefulness
Into transcendental sleep
Where the Neshamah can wander freely
Through astral worlds beyond consciousness
And prostrate before the Throne itself
Guarded by legions of warrior angels
And many-eyes seraphim.

In such expectation we board
Our humble transportation
An unassuming man in a night-black cap
Steady at the wheel.

After boarding, some soft-spoken Russian words
Pronounced by our party
Awaken a bright inquisitiveness in his eyes
And hesitantly he asks, in our own language
“Where are you from?
A grin crawled across my exhausted face
As I replied

“Dagestan.
But I’ve spent most my life here.
The mountains of my home
Are but a distant dream to me
Like memories from another life unlived
But my soul lies there, peacefully, waiting.”

And flame-haired Wisdom’s daughter
Riding behind me says
“Latvia is my home that is not home.
O those frost-covered forests
Stretching far beyond sight
Amongst lakes and fenlands
I long for it but there is no place for me there.”

And pointing with his thumb behind him, he asks
“What about them?”

“The volcanic isles of the Atlantic ocean are my home.
Where alien plants bloom amongst cragged rocks
The endless sea swelling up against them.
I have left that place, to pursue the study
Of nature’s most hidden secrets”
Said the Canarian.

“The Mediterranean is my mother.
Under sun-soaked skies where music blares
And ancient history wanders leisurely
Through the storied streets, in company of philosophers
The orange trees of Athens are but a memory to me now
Toiling in Cantabrian rains.”
Said the Hellene

“From the twin rivers I was born
Whence traces itself all civilisation
Of Babylon and Sumer and Akkad is my blood
Which flows deep, deep into fertile Earth
But not I find myself here
Longing for the river valleys”
Said the Mesopotamian

“The North is my home.
Where I was born and raised
A land of chimney stacks and furnaces, forgotten
And silenced by power’s oppressive hand
I will fight for it til my dying breath
In dream of a better future”
Said the Lion of Yorkshire.

The driver sat some time in thought.
“What makes a home?”
He asked at last.

“For fifteen years I have toiled
In this foreign land far from all I know
For Moldova was my home
Where vineyards line the horizon
And trees are bountiful in fruit
I left that life behind
And went wandering for meaning”

The sun’s crown now appeared before us
Flooding his face with gentle light
Whereupon the lines of years could be seen
Spreading like countless roots across a field.

“First I ventured to the church
To seek their wisdom
And the mercy of Christ the Saviours
It opened my heart to compassion’s love
In sin’s redemption, I searched for deep truths
But found the bishop’s answers lacking.
So I ventured further to learn the mysteries of my faith.”

Surprised at his monologue, I smiled
And looked back at my companions
The Canarian was explaining the intricacies of mathematics
To the noble son of the Tigris and Euphrates
As a Hellen struggled to stay awake and perceive
The simultaneous esoteric conversations
His head bobbing back and forth
Oscillating
Between consciousness and dream.

“So what did you do next?” I queried

“Barefoot and penniless, South I journeyed
And amongst the monasteries of Mount Athos
I made my humble home
I rejected all the pleasures of life
And swore death to the world
Countless hours I spent in prayer
Much came to me but more I craved
The pearl for which I dove layer deeper still
In cool, clear waters.”

The Hellene’s attention was sparked by this
Momentarily released from his fluctuating slumber
With bright awareness flashing across his crystal eyes
He asked

“I have heard much of the monks of Athos
Those that reject the material world
And all its boundless pleasures
I thought one day I would join them on their mountain
As theirs is the pinnacle of our craft
What could lay even deeper?”

Happy with the increased engagement,
The driver smiled, and replied:

“I realised that true joy did not lie in its rejection
And a peaceful home could not be made
By eliminating its comforts
How could love be found if one is closed to all the love that manifests itself,
By Divine Will,
As a warm blanket comforting the world.

So I sought those that welcomed love into their hearts
And danced and whirled through the maelstrom of existence.
To the Queen of Cities my path lay
And the Mevlevi order that spun
And twirled through its cobbled streets
Amongst them I would find my place.”

At the dervishes’ mention
The Mesopotamnian, hereto uninvolved in our conversation
Perked up and was pulled away
From the decipherment of nature’s base laws
And pushed to fury by the mention
Of those humble mystics’ nme, he retorted
“Those twirling dervishes are a disgrace
To all those that Submit to God!
Their perverse heresies are a far cry
From the true, eternal path
Revealed by the beloved Prophet
May peace forever dwell upon his name
I have seen their decadent rituals
Full of heathen indulgence
I will not stand to listen to those
Who preach such degeneracy.”

Humoured by this, the driver smiled,
And in calm riposte, responded:

“You have been fed lies by those
Who would take advantage of your soul’s ascent
To attain more power for themselves
They fear the freedom of the Seeker’s path
And its rejection of all authority but that of the Almighty’s
Within that gentle Remembrance
Amongst my brothers and sisters of the Way
I freed myself from the chains of self
And flew like a bird of paradise
Towards the throne of the Simurgh, our king
But in forgetting my self I would forget too my place
And even though I felt at peace
With these all-loving Sufis
The higher soul’s home was found in God
But the lower’s resting place was lost
With all ties to the land of my ancestors long severed by ascetic years

I learned that this world was the Divine’s too
For they fashioned it for our enjoyment and development
I would need to find my place amongst it once again
But from whom to learn?
Only from those for whom to love God is to embrace the world
And further East I ventured.”

The Canarian, deprived of this conversational companions
Too, joined the discussion

“Having found community, why would you leave it?
Why abandon that which you already have
To pursue a mere potential
Like hearing whispers of a dream
Would it not be better to stay and build
Elaborate upon existing foundations
And strengthen the ties that bind
Than to cast it all aside and venture forth once more
Upon the endless road?”

Glancing over his shoulder, the driver spoke:

“You know that when you set out upon that searching road
There is no return
And I would not be satisfied in possessing
Only a fraction
Of the Truth allotted to me.
So I found myself in Jerusalem
The holiest of cities
Where gold-lined domes shine
Under the unrelenting sun
And wandering amongst the sacred spaces
I found my way down a narrow, rough-cobbled alley
To the home of a well respected Rabbi
With curling peyot and wide-brimmed hat
Learned and knowledgeable in the teachings of the Law
And long wandering within the Garden of the received art.

One such as he would not often meet
With a wanderer of the nations such as me
But the sincerity of my quest, and respect for his faith
Convinced him of my good intentions
And he agreed to meet
Amongst the towering bookshelves
Lined with incomprehensible Hebrew tomes
Within the shelter of his study
Accompanied by cardamom-spiced tea.

We talked deep into the night
(Switched to whisky at some point)
He told me about the true way to find community
And connection to the world around
Whilst meandering upon the Way
About our duty to the universe
And the reparation of it that we must attain.
Making a quick telephone call
To Safed he would send me
In the high Galilee
To live with those that new Illumination
Like their native tongue.”

The sun, now high in the sky
Filled Charon’s ferry with is unconquerable light
And its chthonic passengers
Bathed in the sweet rays.

“So I wandered amongst ancient gravestones
Under the shade of olive trees
And sat by Cordovero, and witnessed his pillar of flame
And saw the tenfold tree
Life itself emanating forth
From that Without End

And from Luria’s silence I learned
Of the primordial contraction and shattering
But also of the Divine presence in feminine guise
And the great work of rectification and redemption.

On Sabbath’s even I sung and welcomed in
The Sabbath Bride
So she may dwell in our homes and hearts.

And after Havdalah’s candle burned
I toiled and laboured to build a better world
One seen only in deepest contemplation.

And I knew where my path would lead
The work that I would have to do
And that place that I would call home
Until my penultimate breath.

To Albion’s mist-strewn, rain-washed shores
My sacred path led me.
And now you find me here.”

Hereto silent, the Lion of Yorkshire
Arisen from his torpor
By the shock of this revelation
And spurred on by confusion and curiosity
Questioned

“Why would you venture to this God-forsaken isle?
Where the forces of greed have trampled out
All beauty, meaning and wonder
Where we are slaves to a machine we barely understand
And the act of resistance is but a joke.
You found a place that you belonged
And worked to improve the lives of your community
You threw that all away
To come here and drive
Inebriated youngsters from the forest to their homes?”

At this, the driver laughed
A deep, hearty, ancient laugh
From within his very soul

“You see, when I was in Safed
Our circle was joined by a lady
Much on the same search as me
From an equally distant land
In her gentle smile, perfumed fragrance
And inquisitive eyes craving mystery
I saw God’s whole design
In her wise words I heard Their commandments
In her noble actions I saw Their righteous deeds
And in her compassion I saw Their adoration for all creation.
And so I fell in love.
Deeply, as I had never loved before
For true, earthly love mirrors the transcendental love in the Divine.

And as we lay asleep together once
A common dream came to us
Wherein the Almighty revealed to us our mission
And instructed us to go
And spread love to where it was most lacking
Amongst those with strengthened minds but closed off hearts.

So 15 years I have now worked
Doing simple good for goodness’ sake
And in doing so i have moved the world
Bit by bit
To its promised form.

I have built a home, raised a family
And found peace within the humblest of pursuits
I talk to those that need someone to listen
And guide to those who are lost but willing to be found
And most importantly, I take all there to where they want to go
And in my little, gentle way
I have done my part.
But now my children are grown and I am growing old
And I know that my time some day soon will come at last
And I have no fear
For soon I will return, I long to return, to that home beyond all homes.

There, where trees are bountiful in fruit
And grapevines line the horizon
I will lay down amongst the boughs
And close my eyes in peaceful sleep
Dreaming until I am called to duty once again.”

With that, his tale ended
And in stunned silence we spent the short remainder
Of our journey home
Soon the familiar outline of my house appeared around the corner in the morning fog
Warmly we bid farewell to the humble driver
One who has found his place within the chaos
And ourselves drifted off into nocturnal realms
And dreamed of that which was to come.