Sunday 24 November 2013

THE VOICE OF TREES.


This is something a bit experimental.



The Voice of Trees



be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear

be still

and hear





understand

the essence

understand

the essence

understand

the essence

understand

the essence

understand

the essence

understand

the essence



look on

and fear

look on

and fear

look on

and fear

look on

and fear

look on

and fear

look on

and fear




listen and

remember

listen and

remember

listen and

remember

listen and

remember

listen and

remember

 listen and

remember

listen and

remember





The forest speaks

with the voice of trees

which we,

with partial or oblivious minds

struggle but imperfectly

to hear,

while in the gentle flickering

of sun through leaves

a shadow dances

in time to the primordial tune.

O, lovely dancer,

moving with the grace of years,

you can hear

the singing of the trees.

You learned your steps

with that sound ringing in your ears;

you moved in sempiturnal harmony

with the spirit of the woods,

when stag-headed Cernunnos

sat and watched from the shadows

and lusted after your innocence,

as raven-feathered Morrigan

looked on in jealous rage

and plotted her revenge.


Here, time and space conspire

to create a sonorous enormity:

all encompassing;

a vital essence that contains

the whole tonality of life itself.

But we see none of this.

We struggle to hear anything…

…except, perhaps, an echo

that might come to us

in quiet contemplation

when we try to empty our dull minds

in order to complete the link.


Then, in the softening moontime

a different dancer comes,

her visage pale as death,

her dance grotesque

with gestures of demise.

The forest dwellers revere her -

she holds no fear for them -

but we who live inside the pale

are frozen with temerity

as we give up our spirits

and fall like empty husks,

unconscious to the ground.


But now there is another dancer,

stepping from the shadows

to bring the simple message of the trees

that was always there,

singing with the wind in treetops

and buried under years of fallen leaves -  

there for all

who were empowered to listen

to their ever-changing chant.

This gentle dance is easy to understand:

learn the lesson, now,

that nothing exists for its own sake,

but as a total harmony

that is greater than itself.