Green Contemplation II

...calms the tremors that rise from my roots as I see them approach once again.

A useless display of arrogance unheard of in seed beds. Unthought of in deepest forest converse. Unbelieveable to me.

A somber party of meaty warm ones, plodding along like children unsure of themselves, which in essence, they are, approach the gate.

One more somber than the rest, clutches an abomination close to his breast.

A Book.

A tree with the life ground out of it, ground into a fine paste, which was then formed into uniform rectangles stained with minerals and water from which these pathetic creatures draw comfort.

Stitched together.

Bound.

A good way to describe the subjugation of the noble life that preceeded.......the book.

Iron pins in iron hinges yelp in pain as they grind one against the other. The gate swings inward. The assembly shambles forward, trodding on my toes as they approach.

The bearer of the book stares deeply into it, mumbling an incantation which causes all to bow their heads in response.
All except for the frightened, rabbity, tall thin one standing in their midst.
He is bound, arms behind him. His eyes are wide, darting all over this place. His breath is shallow and fast; sweet smelling, fear-filled; an oration of denial.

Tree does not fell tree willfully.

Flower does not bear malice to bush.

Grass seeks not the death of vine.

Yet these take onto themselves the power to determine the method and time of the demise of one of their own.

It is not natural.

The somber one, who caresses my brother, "the book", closes it and nods to another in the gathering.

I feel the old familiar slippery feel of rope being pulled across my arm.
One end in the stout hands of 6 or so strong men, one end attached to the rabbity one.
Then, there is a burn in my shoulder as they pull the new weight with their pathetic string, which jerks and bobs and sways for a time.

And then it is still.

The children pick up their toys, and amble away.

And I am alone, once again, free to contemplate the setting sun.