Post by Nick Harris on May 13, 2010 15:31:37 GMT -5
The trail was steep and arduous but sheltered
by the fresh greenery of ancient cedars.
Ferns coated the ground and thick green moss
drank in the misty air. Rain had endowed everything
with shiny drops that occasionally slipped
from their perch, falling silently earthward.
Wind sifted through the forest
and the trees whispered in his ears,
planting themselves in his fertile mind as softly
as bits of down.
“Come with me,” they seemed to be saying.
He knew the forest well.
It had been his livelihood in a previous incarnation.
He knew the scream of tooth
biting into flesh and the smell of sap steaming
hot as blood. He had felled the great ancients
to feed a budding family
but now there was no one. His wife was gone
and his children long grown,
having picked their way through life
choices he had only dreamed of.
It had been years since
he felt the heft of a chainsaw
and the buttery resistance of wood
to a well sharpened chain. When he thought back
on those days of heady temerity,
he felt ashamed by the efficacy
with which he had downed the thousand
year old giants, habitat to innumerable creatures
whose fleeting lives, like ticks of a clock,
were the measure of our own.
Today, he measured his life by the weariness
in his legs. When he felt as if he could
go no farther, he found a tree
at the base of which he could sit comfortably.
He looked around at a world un-crowded
by vanity. The forest had been the host
of so much misfortune and yet still
welcomed him like a child
into the arms of a parent.
It began to rain and he became conscious
of the tree pressing into his back. Water trickled
down his cheeks and off his nose washing
away his tension and fatigue.
He looked up into the canopy
through the feathery branches
that moved gracefully back and forth
in the gathering breeze and felt more at peace
than ever before. Just minutes ago
he had thought death would be frightening
but it scooped him up and escorted him
carefully into the twilight of consciousness.
All those years he’d ravaged the forest
were no more
than the gentle tapping of rain.
He could feel the tree’s juices pushing
their way up from the roots,
first through his feet then into his arms
and hands and finally, through the crown
of his head. They carried him high
above into the slipping wind
and as morning unfolded
the sun fell through the clouds
peppering the forest floor with light.
by the fresh greenery of ancient cedars.
Ferns coated the ground and thick green moss
drank in the misty air. Rain had endowed everything
with shiny drops that occasionally slipped
from their perch, falling silently earthward.
Wind sifted through the forest
and the trees whispered in his ears,
planting themselves in his fertile mind as softly
as bits of down.
“Come with me,” they seemed to be saying.
He knew the forest well.
It had been his livelihood in a previous incarnation.
He knew the scream of tooth
biting into flesh and the smell of sap steaming
hot as blood. He had felled the great ancients
to feed a budding family
but now there was no one. His wife was gone
and his children long grown,
having picked their way through life
choices he had only dreamed of.
It had been years since
he felt the heft of a chainsaw
and the buttery resistance of wood
to a well sharpened chain. When he thought back
on those days of heady temerity,
he felt ashamed by the efficacy
with which he had downed the thousand
year old giants, habitat to innumerable creatures
whose fleeting lives, like ticks of a clock,
were the measure of our own.
Today, he measured his life by the weariness
in his legs. When he felt as if he could
go no farther, he found a tree
at the base of which he could sit comfortably.
He looked around at a world un-crowded
by vanity. The forest had been the host
of so much misfortune and yet still
welcomed him like a child
into the arms of a parent.
It began to rain and he became conscious
of the tree pressing into his back. Water trickled
down his cheeks and off his nose washing
away his tension and fatigue.
He looked up into the canopy
through the feathery branches
that moved gracefully back and forth
in the gathering breeze and felt more at peace
than ever before. Just minutes ago
he had thought death would be frightening
but it scooped him up and escorted him
carefully into the twilight of consciousness.
All those years he’d ravaged the forest
were no more
than the gentle tapping of rain.
He could feel the tree’s juices pushing
their way up from the roots,
first through his feet then into his arms
and hands and finally, through the crown
of his head. They carried him high
above into the slipping wind
and as morning unfolded
the sun fell through the clouds
peppering the forest floor with light.