Love, we are in God’s hand. How strange now, looks the life he makes us lead; So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!
Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, Or what’s a heaven for? ~Robert Browning from “Andrea del Sarto”
We have had names for you: The Thunderer, the Almighty Hunter, Lord of the snowflake and the sabre-toothed tiger. One name we have held back unable to reconcile it with the mosquito, the tidal wave, the black hole into which time will fall. You have answered us with the image of yourself on a hewn tree, suffering injustice, pardoning it; pointing as though in either direction; horrifying us with the possibility of dislocation. Ah, love, with your arms out wide, tell us how much more they must still be stretched to embrace a universe drawing away from us at the speed of light. ~R.S.Thomas “Tell Us”
Ah, Love You the Incarnate, stretched and fettered to a tree
arms out wide embracing us who try to grasp a heaven which eludes us
this heaven, Your heaven brought down to us within your wounded grip and simply handed over.
The fish are drifting calmly in their tank between the green reeds, lit by a white glow that passes for the sun. Blindly, the blank glass that holds them in displays their slow progress from end to end, familiar rocks set into the gravel, murmuring rows of filters, a universe the flying fox and glass cats, Congo tetras, bristle-nose pleocostemus all take for granted. Yet the platys, gold and red, persist in leaping occasionally, as if they can’t quite let alone a possibility—of wings, maybe, once they reach the air? They die on the rug. We find them there, eyes open in surprise. ~Kim Addonizio “Aquarium,” from The Philosopher’s Club
My plecostamus is dead. Belly up on the bottom of the tank, no pulsing mouth or breathing gills. He had been official tank custodian. Almost a foot long, with a face that only a mother could love. I tried for ten years, I really did. I just could not love that face.
His spiny armor and rolling eyes unnerved me. For ten long years. He was a throwback to the dinosaur age, swimming shark-like in our living room, reminding me that mere millennia ago, creatures like him controlled the earth. And then they were gone. But the plecostamus remembers those days and controlled his little watery kingdom.
It was a rather pleasant relationship with him at first, when my tank was new and he was an under two inch soft little sucker fish, diligent and unobtrusive. He alone survived two tanks springing leaks, complete with temporary quarters for a few days in 5 gallon buckets. He survived winter storms with no electricity, so the water temperature dropped way below a level any sensible South American river fish would tolerate. Yet he did. He kept growing. His fins got sharper and pokier. He watched many other fish come and go over the years, and when they went, he helped clean up the remains so I was never sure what had happened to the missing party. Unnerving indeed.
He was an efficient glass cleaner with his sucking lips, so I rarely had to erase the algae, like chalk from a board. When I did reach in, way past my elbow, to clean house underwater, I’d sometimes startle him from his hiding place behind the rocks or the fairy tale castle. He’d sweep by my arm with a wave of his spikey fins scratching my skin, and roll his eyes at me, indignant at the disturbance, and the implication he was not doing his job.
As he aged, I wondered a number of times if he had died, as he lay still on the bottom of the tank, rather than hiding as usual. I would reach in tentatively with a net and brush his fins and he’d dart out from under my touch. In his old age weariness, he began leaving algae behind on the glass, and couldn’t keep up with the house cleaning without occasional help. I know the feeling.
And now today, after all those years, through all those tribulations, including all those times I inwardly cringed when I gazed at his homely face, he is gone, buried deep in the compost pile. I cannot say that I will miss him.
I’m not sure I’m ready to commit to another baby plecostamus, almost cute in a soft and pliant way, if it means a long term commitment like this last one.