A Messenger From Above Poem by Gert Strydom

The rain came and came again
like only in the Cape,
in deep winter it can be.

The pain came and came again
like only in a dying thing
spreading throughout the body
and drenching all of it.

Yet it was a thing of the heart
and far apart
from illness, or accident
or broken body.

That desolate night
the sky and sea
and earth was blacked out dark
and a chill rose as if from the soul.

The metal of the revolver
gleamed ominous in the dark
and the man took a deep breath
before cocking back the hammer
and pressing the barrel
against his breast.

Somewhere against the clouded
night sky
a lonely gull stretched its wings
against the raging gale
as if a living thing
could out fly
a torment sky and sea
and could be free from it
and all catastrophes.

One lightning bolt reported sharp
and flashed bright
lighting up the night
and it fell and fell
like a messenger from above.

No bird was still in that sky
and as darkness fell
the man wondered why
and his reflections on ending
his own life
was stunted by a dying bird
that wanted to live.