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The Seed of Creativity
Creativity is a strange thing. Sometimes, an idea is born out of a simple thought and blooms into a complex story. Like a seed planted, which eventually becomes a tree with many leaves, each perfectly placed to funnel rain down to the roots and drink in as much sunlight as possible.
In other instances, a complex story can be condensed down to it's core ideals to create a rarefied piece of art. Something which gives the illusion of simplicity but with deep and enduring subtext. This is how it was with the design work that went into creating the projectgiving logo.
Throughout the organisational drive to set up Project Giving, the charity in which I'm involved, there was a massive amount of report style writing, promotional sections to be written and also proofreading/editing. Some people might say this type of writing is the antithesis of poetry, but I was inspired to balance all of this analytical work with a creative narrative in some way. This is how this poem was written as I was constantly considering the ethos of the charity and its heart born out of The Legend of Danko.
I will give the briefest of background here as I don't want to ruin the impression of the poem. The Legend of Danko is a Bessarabian (Moldovan) legend which reads very much in the style of a parable. From my research, it seems there are different versions of this legend but it has been popularized, at least outside of eastern Europe, by the Russian author Maxim Gorky who wrote his version as part of his work entitled Old Woman Izergil, published in 1895.
At the heart of the legend of Danko pulse themes of arrogance and pride, along with love in the face of anger, and the power of the unwavering spirit. These are all themes that bear relevance to me when considering the role of charity in our modern world and especially on steemit. The parable of Danko also touches on humankind's deep psychological imperative to self destruction and collective mania, but without a much deeper analysis I wouldn't like to comment too much on the socio/political subtext in this story.
Now it's time for the poetry. My version does not conform strictly to the legend as it is represented by Maxim Gorky as it was born out of the process working with the projectgiving team. The narrative is closely interwoven with my inspirations through that process and how this all linked in with the charities ethos and the thought behind the logo.
The Blazing Heart of Danko
closing in, squeezing out hope.
The people looked to sky and earth,
to the old oak and sycamore.
wondering why the birth of a child,
and innocent eyes, led only to war,
only to more of the same,
as leaves fell, as buds burst in pain
for someone to heed their sorrow,
in dark night beneath oaken domes
and creaking pines, a light to shine
a beacon to find a new home.
from root through sap,
until at last they wavered
in storm blackened night,
held a moot to balance fear and sorrow,
the scales swung in forest winds
As the tempest raged through night
into morrow.
“I’ll lead you through swamp and storm
to the golden fields of the steppes,
where horses roam and honeyed mead
is sown by the bumbling bees
and the dark of trees are unknown.”
as the lightening rent skies in twain
the people knew it was time
to hasten from this swampy grave
of darkened woods or forever remain.
as trees bent bows to rake the weak
and lame who stumbled, as the storm
rumbled in thundered distain,
forest spirits watched and followed
feeding fear with all their arts
of spell and curse, weaving charms
of fibrous despair and sorrow,
while a poisonous fog gathered
in hollows beneath trees,
suffocating the weak with disease.
stout and strong, refusing to bow,
and the people grew dour,
resenting his fortitude in the face
of their sour weave born fear.
Birthed in anger, they seared
Danko with harsh words of blame,
but the flame of their anger
stoked only the fire of love in his gaze.
unfettered in madness, feral
as beasts they mistakenly gleaned
the fire in his eyes as a daemon,
a forest spirit, clothed in his skin
reflecting the pallor of their sins.
While the dirge of the forests song
droned on in the hollows
and the storm echoed sorrows,
calling for murder in despair.
and he raised his hand and wrenched
heart from chest, thrust on high
to light up the sky in living light of love,
And he cried “Is this not enough
to lighten the way? Not enough to burn
a path through this dark place?”
their minds now sundered of pestilent mist.
In the light of bliss and blazing love
golden fields shone above in the steppes,
the way was clear, all fear was gone
And they hastened on
as Danko stood frozen
as stone, heart blazing like the sun.
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