The Tortoise and the Gem of Priceless Value - A Poem by D.M.D. Goodhead
- By D. M. D. Goodhead
- Published April 30, 2008
- Poems
- Unrated
D. M. D. Goodhead
D. M. D. Goodhead. has a Bachelors in literature from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, and a Master of Fine Arts in fiction from the University of Washington. He won third place in the Zora Neale Hurston/Richard Wright literary competition in 1999. He will be concluding his Ph.D. in literary theory and criticism in June 2008. In addition to theory and criticism, Goodhead's other areas of interest are African and African Diaspora Studies, Postcolonial Studies, Theatre and moviemaking.
View all Entries by D. M. D. GoodheadAh, 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
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.