Fear not the wrath of God!
Those who are beckoned here
Know better than to comply.
Below the sullen skies,
Where stars hardly survive,
Stand pale precipices
Guarding the dim muzzle
Of a deadly, sodden
Passage, and listening
To it ceaselessly burp,
Bellow, bawl, and belch
Out a whirl of white spume.
Forward! Forward! The oar
That no one can wrench free
From his grip grunts and gasps,
Guiding him firmly through
The chasm that divides the worlds
Of pang and timeless pain.
With a wriggle, he’ll go
Beyond the claws of those
Breakers that have burrowed
Their heads into a habitat
That has devoted its life
To hoarding the hopes of
The assembly hoping,
In hopeless times, against
Hope that Hope, like waves,
Will come crashing to where
They huddle together –
The shoreline of Acheron /
The first river born of
The endless tears tumbled
Down the solid gold face
Of the Old Man of Crete;
The river where water
Is not smudged with mud,
Blood, ice, or magical mead.
Whoa there! You’re making too
Loud a noise! I’m here to help!
God gave him strong sinews
To make him stand upright
And sway his soulless body
In time with the craft that
Will carry them all up
-river to a second
Life that knows not mirth, but
Only howls and snarls,
Scowls and slouches.
Mind you don’t push and shove!
Don’t stagger or shuffle!
Stand still! I’m here to help!
Before his voice echoes
Back, the prow veers sharply,
To the right, throwing the hull
Headlong into the jet-black
Chops of Hell. Grizzled hair,
partly falling in curls
To the left side of his
Twisted body, partly
hurtling backwards.
Eyes, finding it hard not
To gush shock at the sight
Of the bank seething again.
Cheekbones, rising higher
Than the sun-clad mountain
Ravaged by three savage beasts.
The gaping mouth, through which
A torrent of words is
Slicing as he comes closer.
Fear not the wrath of God!
This is the rallying cry
Of those who dared rebel.
Minos decides where you
Belong, but who is the final
Arbiter of your fate?
If fearless, how can you
Be driven by desires
To dive into the dark dungeon?
God, as light, has wide arms
To embrace those who dare
Choose whichever path they like.
With infinite mercy,
He gives us all the right
To not always side with him.
If not choosing is a sin,
Choosing is believing.
Take not what turns to you!
The gate through which the poet
(I see him swiveling
His oar and pointing at me.)
Came is the only gate
Through which you can escape
A fate grimmer than that
Of both the blind angels
And the flag-chasing shades
Who once chose to stand
On either side of the divide.
(Outside the secular
World where I got lost)
Don’t let these words of mine
Sing past your ear! Catch them,
Follow me, turn and run.
Ying Zheng was born and grew up in Shanxi, China, where she received her first Master’s degree from Shanxi University, and has since been working for the English Department of Taiyuan Normal University. In 2019, she earned her second Master’s degree in Creative Writing from Lancaster University, England. While in Lancaster, she had the privilege of studying a module on “Visualising the Poem” under Professor Paul Farley. Under the guidance of Dr. Eoghan Walls, her first poetry tutor and mentor, she completed a portfolio of ekphrastic poetry mainly based on visual arts on the subject of Dante Alighieri and his Divine Comedy. Currently she is pursuing PhD studies at Renmin University of China, Beijing, China. In a recent national creative writing competition held by Sun Yat-Sen University, she won the second prize with her poem “The Heavily Armoured Eyes.”