Suppose you were Jonah.
What would you do?
When you woke again, shocked into predawn dark,
Would you blame it on bad food?
Would you shake your head until it throbbed,
Trying to clear your vision?
Would you jump from bed,
Pull on clothes,
Run out the door,
Gun the car motor to drown out
Your beating heart?
Blood pounding in your temples, would you
Leap into the clatter of the busy, busy world,
Yell and gesticulate, language of the market,
Grin and chatter, language of the office,
Rustling papers, humming machines,
Roaring motors, clicking precision,
Dull numbing thuds –
Would you reach for potions or liquids or smokes,
Anything to blur,
Anything to smear,
To cast doubt,
It was what I did,
It was what I took,
It was what I drank,
It was pressure,
It was tension,
It was lack of sleep,
I’m not crazy, no,
It’s the way the wind blows here,
It’s the way the winds blow here,
Elsewhere, the winds don’t do this,
There are no voices in the wind,