A blue jay poses on a stake <br />meant to support an apple tree <br />newly planted. A strong wind <br />on this clear cold morning <br />barely ruffles his tail feathers. <br />When he turns his attention <br />toward me, I face his eyes <br />without blinking. A week ago <br />my wife called me to come see <br />this same bird chase a rat <br />into the thick leaves <br />of an orange tree. We came as <br />close as we could and watched <br />the rat dig his way into an orange, <br />claws working meticulously. <br />Then he feasted, face deep <br />into the meal, and afterwards <br />washed himself in juice, paws <br />scrubbing soberly. Surprised <br />by the whiteness of the belly, <br />how open it was and vulnerable, <br />I suggested I fetch my .22. <br />She said, "Do you want to kill him?" <br />I didn't. There are oranges <br />enough for him, the jays, and us, <br />across the fence in the yard <br />next door oranges rotting <br />on the ground. There is power <br />in the name rat, a horror <br />that may be private. When I <br />was a boy and heir to tales <br />of savagery, of sleeping men <br />and kids eaten half away before <br />they could wake, I came to know <br />that horror. I was afraid <br />that left alive the animal <br />would invade my sleep, grown <br />immense now and powerful <br />with the need to eat flesh. <br />I was wrong. Night after night <br />I wake from dreams of a city <br />like no other, the bright city <br />of beauty I thought I'd lost <br />when I lost my faith that one day <br />we would come into our lives. <br />The wind gusts and calms <br />shaking this miniature budding <br />apple tree that in three months <br />has taken to the hard clay <br />of our front yard. In one hop <br />the jay turns his back on me, <br />dips as though about to drink <br />the air itself, and flies.<br /><br />Philip Levine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-rat-of-faith/
