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Open Poetry #44
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Your House will never Fall
| Open Poetry #44 |
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Your House will never Fall |
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WindWalker Senior Member
since 2001-10-12
Posts 1218 |
Deep down in a valley so green there meanders a river of water clear and on its lush and flowery banks there people once built their brightly painted homes and in their hearts they all wished for happiness. Far away in the hills covered in pines upon ledges and sloping rugged faces where streams tumbled from everlasting snows there the people once built great terraces of stones to hold the soil and plant their gardens and here they said shall we forever dwell in safety. And so it would have been for it is true the people in the valley broad and green were well fed, satisfied and healthy and those working on their terraces of stones admired the fruit of their labours and saw how happy were their children at their games. There was trade between the hills and the valley so far below. Grains and hay moved up the winding roads and down came loads of produce fresh and down came the lumber to build more pretty houses along the river's colorful banks. Came the day a stranger walked along the river and asked for lodging along the way. Limping he came, dusty were his clothes and long his beard and from pretty house to pretty house he knocked but the doors were quickly barred against him and men stood to guard the things they owned 'til the stranger walked away alone in the night. Only one child asked the stranger be allowed in but she was admonished to be quiet. Up the winding road the stranger went for he saw the lights from the distant hills and in the morning sun he espied people tending the terraces of green and gold and smelled the sweet aroma of cooking fires wafting on the morning breeze. Dirty, tired and hungry he came upon the terraced town and among the well-fed, he did ask for bread but he was told to move along, to move along. From house to house the same response he received: no one would feed or house a stranger in his dire need; the sooner would they throw him off a cliff. Only one child said the stranger should be fed but he was silenced behind a closing door. The stranger walked on as they all watched. He did not stop at the top of the hill, but kept on and up into the sky he walked, into a cloud he disappeared from their sight and soon the people of valley and hill thought what good riddance it was that he had gone: "For what do we need of such to disturb our peace?" But that afternoon brought on a sky of soot and roiling blood-red the clouds at the sun's setting. Thunder rumbled and echoed between hill and valley as the wind rose and cried with moaning voices as of a multitude of the dead suddenly awakened as if a million million tombs had opened at the call of the last trumpet. People of valley and of hill stood still and watched; the children listened in silence to the rising winds. One child in the valley pointed at the hills and said: I see them broken and coming down; one child on the hill pointed to the river and said: I see it rising and swallowing the town! Then came the earthquake and the mountain toppled and came the rains and the river overflowed. Of the well fed once happy people of terraced heights; of the brightly painted, once prosperous towns; nothing remains to indicate they ever existed. Indeed: did they really ever exist or was it all just a dream if full of promise? |
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| © Copyright 2009 Sharran WindWalker - All Rights Reserved | |||
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ThisDiamond Member Rara Avis
since 2002-02-22
Posts 9353Michigan, USA |
WindWalker, you have depicted the spiritual life of sharing the bounty. A wise and valuable lesson to learn. At first, I saw the native people, but then I realized, they knew this lesson... we should have listened then...we should listen now. Excellent write!  |
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
This is a very well written piece, with a good message, WindWalker. I enjoyed it very much. |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Enjoyed...James |
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