When my brothers were too young to be wise

When my brothers were too young to be wise
but too old to name things creatively,
they invented a game called:
Let’s take turns jumping off Tom’s roof and
throw the cat after the person who jumped.
At least they took turns…

Later, when my brothers were too young to be wise
but old enough to put their scientific knowledge to use,
they played a game called:
Let’s pour gas over this giant pile of weeds
and then light it on fire.
At least the doctor said
that their eyebrows will grow back…

Later, when my brother was old enough to be depressed
but too young to know how to cope,
he would play a game called:
Let’s go to Tom’s house and do a lot of drugs
and drink all his step-dad’s beer.
At least there was that one English teacher
who asked if something was wrong…
but what could you say?
We are so poorly equipped to deal with these troubles,
and there are so few doctors of the soul these days…
What is there to do?

I know some people who fight it all their lives,
kicking against the goads till they bleed to death.
Others, like Dad, ignore it,
thinking that hard work, sunshine, and
the passing of time will resolve it.
Still others, like Mom, ostracize and cast blame
by leaving condemnatory evangelical polemics taped
to your bathroom mirror.

But now my brothers and I are old enough
to begin to be wise,
yet still young enough to climb the cold roof
to talk and to smoke.
So I will play a new game with you called:
Let’s go together and bear one another’s burdens.
At least I will not laugh at your pain,
I will not try to fix your problems,
I will not ignore your suffering
or condemn you with my piety…
I will simply lie here next to you in the cold
while we breathe our smoky prayers to God.

-Raeben Nolan

-taken from the book, This Beautiful Mess by Rick McKinley