Wholeness Returned

Wholeness Returned

 

A fallen oak has left a  hole  in the forest canopy,

centered

on giant roots that twisted aside tannic soil

to leave a shallow pit.

 

From there the massive trunk made a radius of destruction,

everything directly beneath

flattened,

a saber slash in the flank of encroaching neighbors.

 

When it tumbled on itself

cracked branches sliced

surrounding vegetation like giant scythes,

leaving evidence of former glory

engraved      in the woods,

and a larger circle in which competition

was shaded out.

 

The passage was swift,

some creaks and groans, sharp snaps,  an extended crash,

haunting echoes

haunting echoes

then complete

quiet.

 

Every bird fell silent.

 

Dust rose to fill the gap in the canopy.

 

 

Now the air begins to clear.

The reedy song of a thrush

sneaks through distant trees.

Squirrels churr, shake branches.

Worms, millipedes stir the dust-topped litter.

Sun floods the hole with healing warmth.

 

An untouched seedling

pale and weak

moves its only leaf

to face the light.

 

Ken Shiovitz

May, 2011