Ryan Pritt- A Poem

Ryan Pritt graduated with a degree in English/Creative Writing from West Virginia University in 2008. He has since gone on to become a sports writer at the Charleston Gazette-Mail, but in his free time still writes creatively as well.

Dig and arise

 

Back-breaking, pain-staking, earth-quaking digging

Through crust, mantle and deep into the core

Sweltering, bright heat meets frigid dark winds

The seasons pass by in the blink of an eye

And I dig on, no breaks, no rest, no relief

Shovel breaks stone, while head pummels wall

The blade of the tool eventually wins out

But my brain throbs with each futile thrust

‘X’ marked this spot in deep, blood red

A journey through earth, mind, heart and soul

But this hole towers above me so cavernous

So deep, so high, the mouth is no longer visible

Not that I’d take sight off of below as I tunnel on

Finally I strike something foreign as arms jerk to a halt

The chest is battered like me, crippled under the world’s weight

Treasure that I’ve so long desired lies vulnerable at my feet

I open the box, squinting in anticipation of

The glaring reflection of newly-struck gold

But this treasure is booby-trapped and explodes

Sending shockwaves up the freshly-formed walls

And boulders fall from all levels, landing with brute force

Against the sides of my already trembling frame

By the end I can reach just a hand out of the rubble

Extended skyward searching, yearning, grasping

New wounds are laid open as blood cascades downward

Wounds only time can render painless scars

Fingers stretch and clench, finding nothing expectantly

Yet suddenly, in the midst of my biggest failure

With eyes clouded by blood, blinded by pain

A memory overcomes me, leaving the pain forgotten

Words cut through the blindness and wrap me like a robe

They scream, echoing through the hole “Matthew 14:31!!!”

And the words immediately come to mind

"Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed him.

‘You have so little faith,’ Jesus said. ‘Why do you doubt me?’ ”

And in the pits of a pit, in the bottom of the bottom

Soaked in blood, sweat, tears, bile and vomit

With bones protruding from skin and organs straining to work

I realize, I still cannot and still do not

And in that moment grasping fingers find others

That wrap with both the security of a vice

And the softness of a mother’s tender touch

The rock begins to move, exposing my crumbled body

Badly damaged and battered, yet alive all the same

And the ascension begins, flying upward past

The shovel strokes I’d nearly killed myself to create

Seemingly worthless but still lesson-teaching

For a hole dug by greed and by motives of self

Could never sustain against the winds of change

And for different reasons, I know it may not be

The last time I sit alone at the bottom of

A cavern carved by my own hands

But no chasm is so deep to be out of reach from above

And the light at the end of the tunnel never further away

Than the dark shadows that glimmering faith can penetrate

So this venture failed, these lessons learned

Have resulted in scars that may linger for a lifetime

But scars once proved the identity of a King

And one day they’ll remind me of the consequences of this plight

And I’ll show them off for the world to admire

Not for the way they were formed, but the way they healed

I can hear the wind whistling over the top

It sounds like the ocean breeze kissing the top of a bottle

A peaceful thought, the first in so agonizingly long

And deep inside I’m filled with knowing there’s more to come

Because of this hand I’m determined to never let go

For it reached for me when I was unreachable

And helped me learn what’s not teachable

So pull me up higher and I won’t look down or back

Til the gaping hole in the ground becomes a sidewalk crack

Far and abound and away from that place

My wounds and scars no match for the hand of grace