Until We Reach the Sunrise

by Pavel Chichikov

On the edge of the world, this world, I rode

On an old night bus across a night-broad country

Of light and night, grey shadow

Many were sleeping in their tall black seats, not yet awake

Others wanted to show the map to the driver

Or to instruct him as he drove

But he was a strong and confident steersman

Swung through curves along the mountains

Kept straight and steady on the plains

With no headlights he saw the road in the dark –

No worry had he, no hesitance

But knew the way

From sea to sea he drove the big bus eastward

But it was a way so long and far

That more than four weeks were ahead

In the everlasting nightfall dusk of long dreams

Those highways on no living map

We came to rest

Some awoke and saw through the window

The anxious ones who shopped for bread

In a bakery of loaves

But the door was shut, the bus was sealed

And the driver would not let us go in

Though we were hungry

Let us eat bread, we told him, let us

So he passed us a small piece to break apart

And share with one another

Here, he said, this is my life and you will share it

But as for the living blood it will remain,

Until we reach the sunrise, in my veins

Visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.

Note: Pavel will read selections of his poetry at Franciscan University (Steubenville, OH) on January 25, 2002. For more information contact Professor David Craig of the Department of English.