A spear pierces the tent.
Now another and a third.
Khan Kublai is near death,
Enter quiet.
Sons, spears lowered, surround his bed.
Yes, I’m dying. Here’s a single arrow, break it.
Each broke one, looked down, silent.
Now five arrows together. Each of you.
None could.
Now all together break them.
Together they could.
So you’ll stick together.
Go it alone, you die alone.
His instructions ended Khan Kublai
Turns away, is silent.
Now go so I can sleep.
My ancestors say come home.
Your work is done.
You my sons will have the prettiest women,
The fastest horses,
The most magnificent clothes,
My advantages.
But you will forget tomorrow in whose shadow you once stood
For all of this.
Kublai pales, sleeps.