Rabbit Rises


 I have been thinking a lot about a Taoist deity lately, Tu'er Shen. Yesterday I created an altar to him and painted a (not very good) backdrop to it. The painting needs working on, as I have never painted an East Asian portrait before and the skin tones do not look quite right. I also got the urge for poetry, after  along break from writing any. The metre is of a spontaneous design and the poem is told from the perspective of the unnamed Fujian Inspector who orders the execution of the mortal soldier Hu Tianbao, whose soul is lifted to the realm of the gods and become the rabbit god Tu'er Shen.

It is, of course, the Year of the Rabbit on the Chinese calendar and this poem (and the myth it is based on) also contains decidedly Easter-like themes seasonal to this time of the year. Incidentally, should any readers know the shop which sells the wonderful statuette of Tu'er Shen featured in the photo - please let me know. I would love to add it to the altar.


 

 RABBIT RISES

He was dead, slain at my word,

That upstart soldier, coy,

Beauty broken, pleas unheard,

I wanted love nor joy.

 

A snared rabbit, twitching,

Thrown into a giftless grave.

One less peasant, who shall own?

I scarce recall the slave.

 

He is in the deepest Hell,

Where the presumptive wail,

No dream can he haunt nor quell

My heart with remorse pale.

 

Yet the farmers dream of Hu,

Say love is not a sin –

Heaven must take what is due.

God wears a rabbit’s skin.

 

Empty is my bed, my nights.

Tu’er Shen rises strong,

Fragrant clouds from temple rites

Torment me – how I long.

 

Shrine bells shiver on night breeze,

Rough hands trace forgiveness,

Fade like echoes, my pleas

Are left without redress.

 

Those whom love deny, descend

And Hell’s gates open wide

No hope of Heaven can rend

Self-forged chains; there we abide.

 

Yet the Rabbit may redeem,

Place a paw on my chest,

Show my place in His wise Scheme

Till at last I may rest.


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