Everyone has a role. I’ve spent most of life feeling like I didn’t belong. I’ve never really felt as if I had a place in the world. I feel at home on the earth, trolling the bellies of its canyons and clinging to the shoulders of its mountains, trekking out along the fingers of land that claw its vast deserts. But the world is a different story. For me, a vast gorge separates the rims of the earth from the walls of the world. And I spend most of my time in the world.
Yet even in the world, no matter how uncomfortable I am with my lines or my business, I have a part to play. Several probably. And those roles may be more important than I know.
Ever heard of Franz Xaver Kappus? He was a young military student whose correspondence with the poet, Rainer Maria Rilke, evoked the most profound and beautiful letters I have ever read.
If you’re a reader of poetry, you’ve probably heard of Rilke. Few have ever heard of Kappus. Yet without him, we wouldn’t have Rilke’s letters. Kappus preserved Rilke’s correspondence and published them in 1929. Other than that, Kappus is a largely overlooked writer.
Rilke was one of the most influential poets of the 20th century. Another famous 20th century bard, Kahlil Gibran, wrote in his epic work, The Prophet:
As God loves the arrow that sails, so too does he love the bow that is steadfast.
In Letters to a Young Poet, Kappus is the archer that launched Rilke’s famous correspondence. He’s the bow to Rilke’s arrows.
There’s a truth recognized in many cultures: When the last person who remembers you is gone, you’re lost to the world as the last tatters of your mortality fade from memory. Yet we fit into a vast mosaic. Without each of us, no matter how wayward or insignificant our lives seem, the cosmos remains incomplete. We may be tiny when compared against the billions of swirling galaxies, but that doesn’t mean we’re nonessential to the whole. Anonymity reaches for every king in the end and drowns him in its ocean. And yet, the universe is a kaleidoscopic tapestry which remains unfulfilled until every image – even the small and unnoticed – takes its turn in the round.
God must love the unnamed, the forgotten, since most of what’s ever been created has never had a name or been acknowledged by the world. We may forget, but love remembers each elm that ever sprouted from seed, and every sparrow that ever perched in its branches. The bough as the crook for her nest. Her birdsong to sway that elm alone. What really passed between them is never lost, extending far beyond any memory of the world. The parts we play are forgotten, yet when the mask is doffed, the player bows, eternal.
© 2024 by Michael C. Just
Mike’s short story collection, Canyon Calls, was published by Zumaya Publications in 2009. Mike’s novel, The Dirt: The Journey of a Mystic Cowboy, is available in softcover or eBook formats through Amazon.
Mike’s other titles, including his novels, The Crippy and The Mind Altar, as well as Canyon Calls, are available through his websites, https://justmikejust.com and https://canyoncallsthebook.com or through Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002
Five of his short stories have recently been published online:
Lies, Ltd. has been published by The Mystery Tribune @ Lies, Ltd.: Literary Short Fiction by Michael C. Just (mysterytribune.com)
The Obligate Carnivore has been published by the Scarlet Leaf Review @ Category: MICHAEL JUST – SCARLET LEAF REVIEW
I See You, Too has been published by the 96th of October @ I See You, Too – 96th of October
Offload, has been published by The Worlds Within at Offload – The Worlds Within
You Get the Two has been published by Hellbound Books and is available in print, eBook, kindle or audio format at Kids are Hell!- Anthology (hellboundbookspublishing.com)