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On Water & Evil
“Evil, like water, seeks the lowest point.”
—Earnest McDaniel
The thunder clapped again, applauding light
Displays, and weighted condensation fell
From Heaven’s darkened brow—a picture of
That story told about the Serpent’s flight
From bliss eternal to Earth, then Hell.
He flew! He fled! And made a mess of love.
So, condensation newly fallen flows;
Like evil, seeps to ever deeper lows.
Slopes only steepen once hands have the fruit,
When innocence to “in a sense” transforms,
And wisdom payment for new knowledge turns.
Then serpentine streams poison to the root,
And dewy drops cry from the clay. Dark storms
Contrast the paradise for which each yearns.
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D. R. Rainbolt is a resident and native of the unique cowboy-cajun-country cultural cross-roads that is Northwest Louisiana. Some of his poems have appeared in Vita Latina magazine.
D. R.,
The poem reads really well.
But Interesting that you see condensation as evil. For me, condensation is welcome, so long as it doesn’t lead to any plumbing leaks, if you know what I mean. But on really hot days, I look forward to “some” condensation. 🙂
Best regards,
Paddy
Paddy,
On these 100+ degree August days, I too look forward to some water! To be fair, the Bible sees water both ways. God drew land out of the chaotic waters and hemmed them in with it at creation, yet one must be born of water and of spirit to truly live. God shows common grace by “rain[ing] on the just and the unjust”, yet he judged the world with a flood. Etc., etc. This poem simply ponders liquid water’s gravity-induced journey and the similarity of that to human sin. As one once told me, “Sin will take you farther than you ever thought you’d go and cost you more than you ever wanted to pay.”
Thank you for taking the time to read and comment!
This whole thing is very interesting from the opening quote to the conclusion. I have been fascinated lately with water’s tendency to “go lower.”
The first stanza as an account of satan’s fall reminds me of the lines from Blake’s Song of Experience: “When the stars threw down their spears And watered heaven with their tears.” It always seemed too beautiful a couplet to describe the fall of demons. But perhaps the fall of the demons should be seen as beautiful: it was justice.
“He flew! He fled! And made a mess of love.” Wonderful.
The “innocence” “in a sense” pun is wonderful too: they lapse to the language of excuses and equivocation.
The “dewy drops” must be not just water any more but the blood of Abel.
And I think Paddy’s comment has great relevance. We fight the fiery darts of the enemy with the kindly candlelight of faith. We fight the enemy’s evil water with water that that goes lower still. (I think of Our Lord stooping to wash the apostles’ feet.) And not with water only but with water and Blood: that speaks more eloquently than that of Abel.
Monika,
I am humbled by your kind words and encouraged that my meaning did get through. The “dewy drops” are indeed the blood of Abel. I love your image of Jesus stooping even lower than the water of evil to wash the evil away with his own water and blood. It’s such a powerful thought that Jesus’s blood “speaks a better word” than that of Abel. Abel’s blood spoke judgment against his murderer. Jesus’s speaks forgiveness for his murderers.
“Weighted condensation” is an interesting description for water, since, as everyone knows, water is heavier than air. Try lifting a bucket of water sometime, and you’ll find out!
Your poem reminds of the Medieval concept of the universe that everything is trickling down from the outermost sphere of the universe (the only space great enough for the presence of God) to the center and least significant point of the universe – the center of the earth, where Satan resides.
Marvelous expansion of an interesting metaphor drawn from an equally trenchant epigraph. The rhyme scheme is new (to me) but effective abcabcddefgefg
And thank you for not rhyming love with dove or above.
Mr. Tweedie,
I am am honored to receive your feedback! Yes, the unorthodox rhyme scheme was an intentional effort on my part to marry the two themes by moving the volta to dead center. Thus, the poem’s “hinge” is the two center lines.
Pindar says “Water is best” (ariston men hudor) in his First Olympian, as life and comfort are unthinkable without it. The fact that free-flowing water always seeks the lowest possible level is an interesting metaphor for the notion that free will, making an evil choice, will tend to lower and debase one’s character, but it has the kind of strangeness that critics like Johnson sometimes complained of in the Metaphysical poets, with their tendency to yoke together improbable imagery.
To me, this is what classical poetry is all about. “In a sense,” it could have been written long ago.
Water is best, as Joseph quotes Pindar, not only because it is needed for life and comfort, but because it signifies potential. That’s how this poem can be understood to make appropriate use of water imagery. Here we have moved far beyond Rainbolt’s first poem on Creation to the point of the first and most disastrous fall, experienced (and chosen) by the highest pure spirit created. This was the creature with the greatest potential. When his free will chooses evil, some of the water above the heavens condenses into drops. Water has no form of its own, but here it takes form as the instrument of divine justice (“Heaven’s darkened brow”), expelling the Serpent to earth, then hell. The depths of hell are said to be ice, water permanently formed into a solid mass of eternal punishment.
Liquid water is both destructive and creative, washing away existent forms and allowing new forms to emerge. In this function, water is associated with seeds. Seeds hold potential form, but water is needed for development. And here we get the soil-and-root destination of water, but more important is that neutral water can deform or reform. Words like “mess” and “seeps” suggest choices of bad will against good form.
The form of the sonnet is a kind of funnel shape. Instead of standard sonnet proportions, we see 6-2-6. The last sestet speaks of steepening slopes, implying the difficulties of rising from the level where formless water settles. Wisdom, the highest gift of the spirit, has turned into payment for experiential knowledge of evil and cannot help. Nor can water alone help human clay rise out of this pit; baptismal water conveys reforming grace by power of the word (yearned for but not yet spoken at the end of the poem). Mr. Rainbolt, I hope my interpretation is acceptable.
This poem is interesting, especially when you consider the Holy Land is a hot place where water is reverred.
A fascinating poem and I love some of the lines in this which have a strong syntactical thrust. Whether one agrees that water is evil depends on many factors. In the Tao Te Ching water is considered the ‘most powerful thing on Earth’: ‘… nothing can surpass it in fighting the hard and strong’. Equally, ‘nothing is softer or weaker than water’.
I agree that this is a fascinating poem and very dramatic. I can imagine it being recited. On another note , am I the only one fascinated with the fact that your name is Rainbolt? I hope you don’t think me rude for saying so. I am being very sincere. Thank you for this excellent and enjoyable poem.