The Dead Among Us
My eyes scanned the horizon
where tree met sky. Beauty--deep, rich greens and blues entwined in dance. The soft laughter of the leaves, the play of sun. What could possibly compare? Life. This was life. But in the midst stood a tree, bare, broken, dead, Like a burn, an ugly scar. It had to go. An invasion of beauty, a distraction Stripped of leaves, in places bark; I could fix this. To the shed for the old ax, heavy and cold. I returned to the dead tree and said goodbye. Axe in hand...but a whisper stayed the swing. "Don't take the dead among us. It is beauty." It is jarring, unsightly. "It is wisdom. It has been here for decades, for centuries. "It has a story to tell of joy and pain, No other tree can unfold, if you listen. "Its time will come; it will fall; it will decay. Your ignorance of beauty hides how quickly." I let my ax drop aside. My empty hand, My hesitant hand, reached out and touched the gnarl. All stopped for a long moment. A choice to make. Was there beauty in the blood? A decision. The wind, sky, sun, leaves returned. The tree still there, But in its place stood beauty where death once was. D.R., July 2016 |