Statement of a Time Traveling Peasant
(Upon Sight of Our Night Sky)
Oh.
This explains it. This explains everything. Why you are—
Forgive me. You have been so kind. You have shown me, given me such great things. Medicine. Transport. Plenty, such plenty. I do not mean to call all of this evil. But…well, no doubt you have some inkling that you have paid a price for all of it. You must know, even now, that nothing comes without one.
Here, where I have so often looked after a day of work, a day beneath the sun, and my back aching something terrible, and finally with a drink in hand, my beloved beside me and my children around, I have looked and seen above the great stretch of silver, of glory, seen the Kingdom of God there above me, and known I, too, am seen—it is barren. It is black death.
My friends, I understand. I see—my God!—I see it all now. I see why you have lost your way. You, who live almost as gods—you know not even how to live as men. I looked, and I wondered, and at last I see.
You have killed Heaven. You have darkened her eyes and reveled, thinking yourselves unseen. Oh, my friends, when I think of the glory and wonder lost to you…We could not hear the music, you cannot even see the dance. I almost think it better I do not speak. But I must speak. I could be no true friend of yours and not speak, not give you some word of warning before you continue down this path.
I should have known, should have suspected. It is as it has always been. The heavenly bodies, the Heavenly Body—man cannot suffer such things to live.
But, my friends, I must warn you. You were mistaken. When you killed, your blade found the wrong heart. It was not Heaven’s eyes you darkened but your own. You are seen. You are seen—poor fools, I fear that is no comfort to you.
I would like to go home now. Please, I would like to return to my hardships, my plagues, my poverty. I would like to return to where our work, our burdens, are lightened with song. My village, my beloved, my children, and above all my heavens—please, I will suffer anything so long as I may have them.
When I return—my dear friends, I swear it upon the name of God—I will cast my eyes upon the splendor of Heaven, and I will pray for you.
Thank you for reading. I’ve been thinking about the stars lately—blame it on Lewis’ Space Trilogy—and as you can see I got a little carried away with the thought. I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you take a moment soon to look at the heavens, however darkened.
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Seek the forest. Feed the wolf. Be brave, be clever, be kind.