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PREVIOUSLY:

POET: (pauses; realizes he's the only human there) There’s no way I am the only one. Where are the other Heaven-dwellers? (beat) I saw the other angels, the swordfish guardians, the school of fish. Why haven’t I seen anyone else in the same situation as me? Why haven’t I seen God?

SHARK: Because you keep interrupting me. I will not show you anyone else like you. I cannot. But I can take you to meet God. Yes?

POET: Yes. (excitedly) Yes, I must meet God to understand!

(POET follows SHARK offstage. Lights fade.)

BLACKOUT

END OF SCENE

SCENE THREE

(Lights rise to dim. Jellyfish float on stage, and a colony of more jellyfish is projected onto the screen. POET and SHARK enter. POET stops in his tracks and stares at projection.)

SHARK: This (gestures to screen)is God.

POET: (in awe) You said… you said it was a she.

SHARK: And earlier you questioned her existence.

POET: All I have questioned has manifested here? Why jellyfish?

SHARK: God is not one, nor are we. Jellyfish, like our souls, are immortal; our souls make up God. Now, go on. I didn’t bring you here just to walk away. (nudges POET closer to screen)

POET: God. Wow. I’ve written so much about you without knowing (beat) anything. Hello. (no response from GOD; POET looks at SHARK)

SHARK: (whispers) Go on. (gestures for POET to move closer)

POET: God. Tell me the truth.

GOD: (smooth, echoing) I cannot tell you my truth until you tell me yours.

POET: (recognizes the phrase; taken aback; nervously)I know. Why do you want my truth?

GOD: Why is mine any better than yours?

POET: (passionate) I am sick of questions that have no answers!

GOD: Perhaps there are too many answers.

POET: (thinking hard; pacing; stops in front of SHARK)If God is made up of our souls, then how do I know that this communication is from God? How do I know it’s not my own imagination being reflected back on me?

SHARK: What difference would it make?

POET: That’s just it! It wouldn’t! We are God!

SHARK: And if I told you that this God is not a reflection of your own imagination?

POET: (confused) Why wouldn’t it be?

SHARK: Because she hasn’t collected your soul yet. (POET looks confused)That’s why you’re the only one visibly here.

POET: (beat; thinking hard) Except. Except –

SHARK: Yes. Except him. (they both gaze upward)

POET: That’s me, isn’t it? (beat; SHARK slowly nods)I want to go back. (turns to GOD)

SHARK: It doesn’t really work like that.

POET: Why not?

SHARK: Because, as you noticed, he is – you are – sinking.

POET: So?

SHARK: So, that means God is in the process of taking your soul. If you took your soul back now, it wouldn’t be immortal. It would be torn between Heaven and Hell and Earth. It would have no purpose if it is split.

POET: I would rather have a torn soul than no soul! It’s not like there’s a purpose anyway!

SHARK: You would still have a soul; you just wouldn’t have your body to house it. You’re not really using your body any–

(POET tries to swim upward, distracting SHARK. He is pulled upward about halfway. He is lowered. He tries harder, making it a little further up. He is lowered.)

POET: (yelling) AH! Why does Heaven torture me so? How can God allow this? I want to go back and be something! I want to go back and be a poet, love a woman, see the world, know my truths! I believe in my world! I believe in my being! I believe I am worthy! I believe in him! I believe in me! (points at SHARK) I don’t believe in you! (points at GOD) I don’t believe in you! I don’t believe in any of this! Therefore, it does not exist! Right? Right?(looks quickly back and forth between SHARK and GOD)

SHARK: (shrugs) Right. Now, you’ve got to convince him (points upward)of that. He is why you’re here. But once you do, your soul will be broken.

POET: (somberly accepting) I know.

SHARK: Do you believe in Heaven?

POET: No. (shuts eyes; opens again)Nothing is happening.

SHARK: He’s not convinced. Do you believe in Heaven?

POET: (louder and angrier; closes eyes) No! I don’t believe in Heaven!

SHARK: Do you believe in God?

POET: No! I don’t believe in God!

SHARK: Do you believe in me?

POET: I don’t believe in you! I don’t believe in God! I don’t believe in Heaven! I don’t believe in any of this! I believe in me! Me! Me!

(Jellyfish projection disappears. Lights flash. POET ascends.)

SHARK: (calling out) See you soon.

(Wave sounds rise. SHARK exits stage.)

BLACKOUT

END OF SCENE

SCENE FOUR

(Lights rise to dim. Jellyfish are projected on screen. Other jellyfish are on the stage. Leaves fall onto stage from above. POET and GOD speak at same time.)

POET: (nostalgic; slowly) And I find myself. And my self finds me. I’ve written about these things thousands of times before, but I’ve never experienced such a life. Such a death. I found the fire. I found her. We laughed.I told her that I break down in areas of my house I keep my secrets in.It is not my house, for that burned away the second I drowned. I listened. We created. She made me want to reach my face toward the faces of God and kiss them! She made me want to be a better man. She… made me… (sigh) We are the rain, the earth, the seeds of knowledge! We are the poets, the adventurers, the eighth wonders of the world! We are the shiver of angels. We are the always-changing leaves. We are the souls of God.We may swim, but what does it take to fly?

GOD: (smooth, echoing) It takes fire to fly, I said. He told me that only ashes and leaves catch the smoke’s ascension and twisted confusion. He asked me what it takes to sink. Fire. I said fire. He said no, I said yes, he said yes, I said no. We laughed. He told me that he breaks down in areas of his house he keeps his secrets in. I said secrets are our truths. He told me to tell him my secrets, my truths. I said I could not tell him my truth until he told me his. He listened. He made me want to create. He made me want to reach my face toward the faces of God and kiss them! I allowed him to be a better man. He makes our needs come true. (sigh)We are the rain, the earth, the seeds of knowledge! We are the poets, the adventurers, the eighth wonders of the world! We are the shiver of angels. We are the always-changing leaves. We are the souls of God. We may swim, but what does it take to fly?

BLACKOUT

END OF PLAY