The Tortoise and the Gem of Priceless Value

(For the incomparable ST)

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

The mighty drum roared in the arena,

     its bull neck throbbing with the fever

of an urgent message for a town

     still in the deep throes of night’s

   fabled gift.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

The drummer cleared his throat

     and cleared it again. His short legs

rested on firm supports. His heart beat

     with the ferocity of the pestle on a heap

of pounded yam. He looked to his left,

     and to his right. His feverish hands

rested on the bull voice of the drum

     and went to work again. He had an urgent

message for the town. In the belly of the still fading

     night he had dreamt of a gem of priceless value

   and its refuge in the deep bosom of the earth.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

The animals separated themselves

     from the still heavy embrace of sleep,

scratched their eyes until they were sore,

     and sharp as the slowly unfolding light of the morning,

and trudged to the arena, the clamorous voice

     of the heavy drum putting the fire to their feet.

None wanted to be told by his neighbor

     of what had transpired in the market square,

while he kept company with fabled sleep.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

I dreamt last night of a jewel of priceless value.

     Her kind I have never seen before and will

likely never see again. Her light was like the light

     of a thousand stars, her burnished face like the face

of the golden wayfarer of the gentle sky.

     I intend to find her. Ah, to seek until I have ferreted

her out from her hidden stable and ride into the sunset with her.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

Ah, tortoise has come again. The loose-lipped

     fellow has come again with his bag of empty dreams,

and empty sallies forth and back, his path scattered

     with the mildew of last season’s empty dreams.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!

Ah, ha, said the tortoise,

     your guffaws cannot deter me.

I have heard them so many times;

     they no longer trouble me.

I will proceed right away

     on this seven-knotted task,

a day’s supply of food

     and my working tools

will be companions enough.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!

Immediately, the tortoise set off

     for the hard-boiled task,

a day’s supply of food,

     and his working tools,

his only companions.

The smiling clown of the sky

     was at this time still girding himself

for the day’s task, his fabled smile

     carefully tucked away behind the shutters

of a day still throbbing with the colors

     of the night before.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

The fabled worker went about his work,

     searching with eager eyes the portion

of the earth he had espied in his dream

     the hallowed portion holding the star-kissed

prize of the star-ridden Milky Way.

At last, a loud roar went up,

     just before the powers of the tortoise

had begun to fade into the now brilliant day,

     just before the doughty twins courage and hope

had made good their threat to flee his already sagging spirit.

A loud roar went up,

     for his powers were many fold rekindled,

the redoubtable twins gathered on the threshold,

     pressing their shoulders to the task at hand.

The tortoise pressed his sinews to the task

     like one covering several leagues

 in one magical bound.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

The light-hearted day drummed its way

     across the mighty savanna of the sky.

The earth rumbled with the gritty labor

     of the fabled fellow of animal town.

His feverish blows rose and fell

     on the unforgiving earth. His strength

ebbed like the receding waters of the low tide,

     but the dream manacled his hands

to the sweat-ridden shovel, and kept them there,

     even as the merry clown of the sky rode

its fleet-footed horse into the gathering night.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

The darkening day brought the animals

    from their labors like fireflies gathering

around a feast in the belly of the night

     to the earth where the tortoise his strength

now ebbing faster than a fleeing tide

     stood in a deep hole, a pick axe

in his hands, breaking the stubborn earth,

     and his back almost bent double

with the rigors of the back-bending labor.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

Tortoise, O foolish tortoise,

     have you found the gem of priceless

value yet? Or is the legendary madness of yours

     on the threshold of getting a lasting cure?

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!

I am indeed standing at the spot of the earth,

     where my wandering eye—poor fellow—espied

the great prize buried thick in the bosom

     of the unyielding earth. And my powers,

puny as they are, have bent themselves

     to the task and will not give themselves

a holiday until they have prized away the earth

     from the face of the jeweled one. Now,

if this be madness, I assure you sirs,

     that it is indeed about to get a lasting cure,

for the more I dig the closer I get

     to the jewel of jewels, the fabled prize

of my dreams.

The tortoise wiped the sweat

     from his throbbing brow,

and kept on digging.

     The night spread thick

over the earth. A silken

     blanket, it spread like

a tarpaulin over the earth.

     The animals began to drift

away to find solace amongst

     the seven hundred pillows of the night.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

Alone again, the tortoise surveyed

     the work of his hands with the sharp

eyes of the eagle king. What he had

     done was great. But what was left

to be done was greater. The tortoise

     groaned, despair rampaging through

the acres of his soul like a band

     of urchins on the loose.

I am mistaken, he told himself.

     It was a dream and nothing more.

And if it was no mere dream,

     then it was false. I ought not

to be here but in the soft, silken

     embrace of sweet night, resting

my tired body and soul, and

     dreaming not false, wind-chasing

dreams, but dreams of a happier hue,

     enriching both the body and the soul,

that both waking at the stir

     of the fabled fellow of the sky,

will venture into the day refreshed

     like a sapling just bursting

from its shoot.

He was hungry.

     He was tired.

A battalion of ants

     broke into a civil war

in the austere fields

     of his yawning stomach.

A slight fever struck

     a vicious blow to his temple,

and threatened to embrace

     him in a vice-like grip.

Ah, ah, all is lost, cried he,

     as the fever threatened to gambol

on the taut earth of the hallowed bowl.

     But the vision appeared again,

sharp as he had first seen it

     in the smooth folds of fabled night.

And at once he gave a roar that traveled

     across the vast expanse of his sagging spirit.

Invigorated, he once again sallied into the fray,

     reborn in the cusps of the breaking day.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

The afternoon came, hanging onto

     the coattails of the departing day.

And once again his fellow animals

     gathered around the deepening hole

and raised a clamor that was heard

     round the town. Tortoise, O foolish

Tortoise, have you found the gem

     of priceless value yet?

The sweat poured from his aching

     brow like a barrel of water burst

open in the middle of a busy road.

     His bones creaked like a regiment

in mutiny. His muscles ached

     like a bevy of roaring canons.

Deep in the belly of his sagging

     spirit came the cry to hoist himself

out of the hole and be done

     with his irredeemable foolishness.

But his hands would not venture

     away from the bone-headed shovel.

I wish I could be done, he said.

     I wish I could hoist myself

out of this forbidding hole,

     and carry my near-dead feet

to the singing river and take

     a dip, and going with the current

forget all my sorrows in its

     laughter-giving bosom.

But here I am stuck with the tail

     of a dubious dream—at least, so

it is beginning to look to me—

     with no way out until I have

got to the bottom of the matter.

     And, so, I must continue in my

labors, harsh and unforgiving

     as it is, and prove to myself

beyond even the worst of my doubts

     that my dream was a chimera,

or, nay, an oasis in the midst

    of a famished night.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!

We said you were out of your senses,

     and say it again that you wear madness

like a new suit of clothing, a new suit

     for each season, and what fine suits

of clothing, they keep us entertained

     even in the midst of a harvest of sad

tidings.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!

Thus they assailed him, pelting him

     with the mildew of previous mishaps,

guffawing loudly till their eyes ran

     like the swift-flowing water of

a high tide, and their throats sour

     from overuse ached for the balm

of the rapturous wonders of

    an unpolluted stream.

But the fireflies began to traverse

     the arteries of the night. Their flaming

torches bringing in thoughts of blessed

     sleep and rest from the harshness

of the day’s labors.

Accordingly, their remaining salvos

     were quickly fired and weary feet

followed the trails of night’s wardens,

     since the moon had disdained to reveal

herself even for a one-eyed look

     at the sorrows of the tortoise.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

Alone with himself and his labors,

     his weary hands fell to working again,

until aching beyond the pain of ache,

     the tortoise cried aloud, fool, fool,

I am a common fool, and should be

     out of here, for now I am convinced

this surely is nothing but madness.

     Where, where, is the rope?

I must hoist myself up, and be gone

     from this hole of despair.

But at the very moment of his cry,

     his shovel struck a hard object,

and as if eager to offer the tortoise

     her services to make up for her

earlier disdain, the moon now

     revealed an enormous smile,

benevolent as a river filled

     from its bottom to its sky-seeing

top with healthy fish.

At once, tiredness disappeared

     from all the nooks and crannies

where it had lodged itself in

     the tortoise’s body and spirit.

It fled like a marauder surprised

     in the act by the vigil-keeping

owner of the house.

The tortoise fell on his hands

     and feet and with the adroit

services of a scraping shovel

     began to shave the dirt away

from the face of the enormous

     promise that lay beneath it.

He had not gone very far

     when a blinding light threw, nay,

knocked him to his back,

     for in one not-too-careful

scoop he had revealed

     the radiant one in all

her beauty.

Picking himself up with the bounce

     of a trampoline, he shielded his

eyes from the glorious gaze

     with one hand, and with the other

continued to scrap away the sodden

earth from the radiant face of the beautiful

      gem.

At last, the great beauty was revealed

      in all her wonders, and this was no

little matter, for the light of the priceless

     beauty was so powerful its fleet-footed

rays rose in majestic grandeur in a towering

     beam from the bowels of the despairing earth.

So powerful was the light, its fleet-footed

     rays immediately gathered up all

the watchmen of the night and shooed

     them out of the sleep-laden town.

As it were in a dream, each animal

     espied this glorious light, and taking

quick leave from the fabled one of the night

     rushed out of their trusted hearths.

Dim, dim, dim, dim, dim, dim

They ran as if a nine-eyed plague

     had set fire to their tails

until their singing feet came to rest

     on that same piece of earth where

not too long ago they had pelted

     the tortoise with the mildew

of his past mishaps.

Once they had formed a thick

     knot around the gaping sore

of the earth from which came

     beauty so glorious, each animal

had to shield his eyes, or sacrifice it

     and go wandering in the desert

of the night for the rest of his days;

     their spokesman, the hedgehog,

cleared his throat, once, twice, thrice,

     for the ritual for the august occasion

demanded no less, and raised his voice

     like a well-blown trumpet so

that the ears of the inhabitant of

     the gaping earth could be the beneficiary

of his words.

Ah, ha, said the hedgehog, ah, ha,

     dear Tortoise, ah, my dear, dear

tortoise, valiant warrior, the most

     respected of all the animals,

O wise tortoise, what is the meaning

     of this blinding light that seeks

to put the laughter of the moon,

     and the radiance of the sun to shame?

Ah, ha, said Tortoise, ah, ha,

     my dear hedgehog, ah, my dear, dear

hedgehog, tell me sir, my dear sir,

     my dear, dear sir, what do you think?

The tortoise was in the best of his elements,

  his spirit towering as high as Mt. Kilimanjaro.

I guess we can see for ourselves, said the hedgehog,

     almost chewing his tongue. If this glorious light

be not from the gem of priceless value

     for which you went in pursuit, and for which

you have labored like the unceasing seasons

     these past two days, I should go to my trusted

hearth and not venture out again, for wisdom

     must have packed her bag and baggage

and left me in an unseeing darkness.

Wisely spoken, my dear hedgehog, ah, my

     very dear hedgehog, you need not worry

that wisdom has marooned you on an island

     and forbidden even her minions to sail

by your shores. You are wise, sir, and you

     have spoken wisely. What more is there

to add to your sage words but to affirm

     them firmly and that I do without

any reserve. Yes, sir, you are right.

Well spoken, my dear tortoise, well spoken.

     Now, do be kind to hear what next is

on my mind, for I know that I speak

     for everyone here. (The rest of the animals

nodded their heads as one.) It is clear to us

     as the light of the fabled fellow of the sky

that you need help in ferrying up this

     worthy gem from this woebegone cellar

that sits like a truculent wound on the face

     of the earth.

Hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum

All the animals shook their heads

  in firm affirmation.

Ah, no grandpa hedgehog, said the tortoise,

     his spirit stirring in him like the waltzing flight

of the eagle when his heart is merry beyond telling.

     An animal who has dug all morning, all afternoon, O

my dear, dear hedgehog, and all night for a prize

     such as this should have what it takes to take care

of her without interference from his neighbors.

Wisely spoken, ah, wisely spoken, said the hedgehog,

     but don’t forget—a disconsolate sigh—that a stone

of priceless value is like the sun. She is not seen by just

     one pair of eyes.

I know, I know, grandpa hedgehog—a sylph of a smile

     spread across his face—but a gem is a gem, and though

other eyes might admire her, only one pair gets to keep her.

     So saying, the tortoise hurled the gem of priceless value

out of the gaping wound of the earth, hoisted her onto

     the back of his wooden horse and rode off in a cloud of hibiscus

dust into the still unfolding day.