Dionysos At Large (*) Poem by Daniel Brick

For two months now God has walked swiftly
in long strides, across this uneven, slippery
terrain. At first I could still see his tall,
lithe figure manage with ease, as if hovering
over obstacles that made me stumble and fall
behind. I was once his shadow when he moved
in stately measures, frequently pausing
to look over the landscape, and his dark eyes
brightened and smiled as he looked back at me
and his worshipful women. He is now beyond
all of us. I know he is present still
in a near distance because his being emits
a steady illumination. It rises and hovers
over hills and valleys, a shining mist
which sun shafts dissolve in early afternoon
into a lingering haze, and we see, feel, taste
the reality of our God through day and night...

When I mingle with his maenads, exhausted after
hours of frantic dancing, I see the worry in their
faces, and hear a few isolated moans, "Why does God
abandon us in High Summer? " Even I am deprived of
his true presence. He is always at large. Once,
only once, I was surprised to find him leaning
against a wall of granite, almost nestled within it.
His face was serene, but he said nothing. Not a word
of greeting or dismissal. I bowed lower than usual
in his presence, and a smile flitted across his features.
Then, he seemed to sink into himself, the visible deity
disappearing into the invisible deity, and only
the granite wall was left. When the maenads arrived,
they were filled with his plenitude and felt his presence
everywhere. The dancing started without a signal, wine was
plentiful and we all danced through the night, into dawn
light, and beyond. So now I know what exists after God
disappears into nature. We exist, our worship exists,
the certainty of God exists. And ecstasy is our knowing
God is ever with us...

Shall I keep a vigil by this stone wall, as if
it were a portal for God's comings and goings?
Or shall I climb above the granite to a summit
from which I can see the open space in which
God roams? Here on our solid earth, the light,
the mist, the haze which guided us still prevail.
Is that the God's only presence now? The maenads
have dispersed into smaller groups, as they
return to families and homes. I will never cease
looking for traces of our God, longing to feel
his presence in the near distance, when he returns
and his worshipers gather for a new season of delight.