The Serpent In The Window (poem) by Mark Sebring on AuthorsDen

The Serpent In The Window
by Mark Sebring → (All Poetry by Mark Sebring)
Tuesday, October 9, 2018 Rated "G" by the Author.

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The Serpent In The Window There's a serpent in the window. I know. I saw it when I was a boy. I think I was the only one who recognized it. High up, in the front of the church, a stained glass window, and on it the image of a serpent - a grinning serpent. I don't think it has anything to do with what I'm feeling now, but I recognized it then and I know it's there still. Now. Now I'm alone in the darkness. Sometimes the night is so dark, and so lonely. There's a fire that burns inside. I don't know where it comes from. A fire that consumes the soul. A fire that burns, out of control. I don't know where it comes from. (I know where it comes from.) Sometimes the night is so dark and lonely. They say there's a serpent in the darkness and I suppose it's true . But I'm not afraid of serpents. I'm not afraid of the darkness. I'm afraid of the fire. But I know there are angels. Angels in the darkness. Somewhere there are angels. There've got to be angels. Somewhere there's an angel, an angel of mercy, perhaps in the next room, and she's sleeping. This could be the last poem I ever write. Mark Sebring (2014) "This is my least favorite life. The one where you fly and I don't."

Reviewed by Mark Sebring

Reviewed on February 22, 2021

Poor little ape, you're sick again tonight.
Has the shrill, fretful chatter fevered you?
Was it a dream-lion gave you such a fright?
And did the serpent Fear glide from the slough?
You cough, you moan, I hear your small teeth grate.
What are those words you mutter as you toss?
War, torture, guilt, revenge, crime, murder, hate?
I'll stroke your brow, poor little ape - you're cross.
Far wiser beasts under far older stars
Have had your sickness, seen their hopes denied,
Sought God, fought Fate, pounded against the bars,
And like you, little ape, they some day died.
The bough swings in the wind, the night is deep.
Look at the stars, poor little ape, and sleep.

Fritz Leiber (The Wanderer)