- The sun no longer shines in the land of forever war.The
moon with one last wearisome look, took her silver dust and escaped to
a distant galaxy, to dance amongst the stars of peace. The Old Man of the
Mountain, his craggy face worn and polished from many a storm, wrapped
a garland of pine boughs, intertwined with lilac blooms and grape vines
around her fragile frame and walked with her along the Milky Way in the
hushed silence of timeless majesty.
-
- An odd couple to be sure, this man of granite fortitude,
courage and comforting embrace. His deeply lined countenance, bore the
worn pathways of torrential rains, biting sleet, and winter's blizzards
isolating loneliness. Summer's warmth would see him brush the last iced
tear from darkened eyes, no man could see. He, the guardian of northern
forests, noted man's intrusive plunder. Decades passed, his eyes sunk deeper,
that men below of mirth and greed might not see an Old Man weep.
-
- In anguished watchfulness, he sobbed, as friends below;
the bridal pines, the swaying birch, the ancient oaks who saw his birth,
the mischievous hemlocks, and autumn's symphony of youthful maples cried
out in silent sepulcher, that they be saved from massacre. The Old Man
knew that men of heartless, cruel contempt, could not hear the cries of
trees. And so they came with saws and hatchets, logging trucks and big
machines.
-
- They chopped and hacked, stripped and raped, until the
desecration was complete. Far below he saw the carnage, of lifeless skeletal
murdered friends. Gone the song birds joyful laughter, woodland creatures,
the trees soft chatter. Parking lots, and ribbon concrete, tourist shops,
neon motels, and rowdy tourists; dressed in plaids and argil socks, came
in cars, trucks, and trailers grand to photograph the Old Man's grief.
-
- Some climbed upon his lofty brow, their vulgar laughter
echoed loud over consecrated ground that held a mighty massacre. They could
not see nor did they care, of poisoned streams and toxic air. He alone
could hear the cries of carnage in the forests north. Then came the semis
filled with waste, garbage, from surrounding towns and concrete canyons
out of state. Burning gasses filled the air, it's then he knew his Watch
was ended.
-
- She came to him one moonlit night, and under clouds heavy
midst, he heaved a final sob and left. No
- one heard him leave in thunder, he simply took her in
his arms, as chariots of stars carried them off. They traveled through
the moonless night over oceans, rivers, and streams polluted. Over forests
and mountains plundered, and war torn lands soaked with blood. They heard
the mighty sounds of missiles, bombs, and guns and little shredded children
weeping.
-
- She translucent, ever changing, sometimes silver, sometimes
waning, held his blackened granite hand, light and darkness now were one.
His scars visible, hers hidden in craters deep, over a turquoise planet
now filled with sorrow. And just before the Man of Granite and Moonlit
Maiden took their leave, to walk along the Milky Way- they stopped and
whispered to the watchful warriors left behind," We go to find a place
for thee, a place of sun and moon and stars, of clapping trees and pristine
streams. A place that's absent of all strife, where lamb and lion play
together. Stay the course and do not falter, keep the light and never fear,
we'll soon return with the Prince of Peace."
-
- See - http://www.nhparks.state.nh.us/ParksPages/franconianotch/oldman.html
|
