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Glenn Logan
Member
since 2001-10-10
Posts 111
Virginia

0 posted 2001-10-12 05:12 PM


APPALACHIAN REQUIEM FOR
A FALLEN GOD


Although I do not know the way,
and therefore can safely say
I am an idiot today
to be walking
on this mountain trail alone,
the trees, clouds, and wind all
seem to say that rains will come
to clear this fog away, and though
I have nothing for rain with me,
at least it is a warm
and not-unpleasant summer day.

I hike along a narrow, pebbled trail
that I scarcely know through pearl-gray
fog, pushing aside mist-soaked branches
that would seem to bar my way - but
there are no distant views today;
valleys just five miles away
might as well be on the moon,
so all remains brilliant misty gray,
and the sun seems especially far away.

Though still following a trail, I know that
I am lost, for I have no idea where it leads.
"Am I" - I playfully ask my adventuring self -
"just foolishly seeking
some mountain fountain of youth,
or a return to a boyhood past
that never was?"

But I can feel the reality
of the dripping dew: my shirt is wet,
and I'm soon soaked through,
but still I'm thankful that the breeze is warm,
though my sweaty clothes cling uncomfortably
to my aging form.

Then a sudden strong wind flips over leaves,
and a blast of thunder cleaves
what had been near-silence transgressed only
by a gentle tapping sound of dripping leaves,
and the slow-swaying dance of the trees
is swiftly transformed into Carnival samba.

Soon the torrential rains arrive where I am,
and peals of thunder sound quite near.
Before long the mountain forest
is filled with the sights and sounds
of creaking branches
dipping and waving violently.
                                                  
Through the storm's dim light I see
a huge limb torn loose from a maple tree.
It flies though the air just in front of me,
and I am made all too well aware that
I am a fool to be up on this mountain
on this rainy day.

In a flash of lightning, I see before me
a tree rising like a mast -
a towering red-berried mountain ash;
moments later, there is a second
lightning flash.
                                                  
For just one moment the world is lit up brighter
than at Christmas and the Fourth of July,
plus a Chinese New Year or two,
all rolled together -
and as the great, towering
red-berried tree falls,
I am grateful that it does not
fall toward me.
                                                  
With a great crashing noise worthy of the gods,
the towering tree crashes down through
lesser trees, and leaves behind
only a charred stub of tree
scarcely taller than me.

Childishly, perhaps, I think
of German operas, of the twilight of yet more gods
born in this forest, grown from little acorns
or from tinier seeds of ash or beech
or red maple - of mighty gods grown here
from the seed of fir cones -
gods of lightning,
thunder and storms.

Yet even now I am somewhat ashamed to say
how thrilled I was
that I had lived to see
the killing of something
so much mightier
than me.


Glenn Logan

For more poems, see my website at http://sites.netscape.net/gloganpoet/homepage                            

© Copyright 2001 Glenn Logan - All Rights Reserved
JamesMichael
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA
1 posted 2001-10-12 05:20 PM


Glenn I enjoyed reading this little journey...James
Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
2 posted 2001-10-12 05:30 PM


Glenn--I traveled with you in this, and understand.  Very good writing!!
rwood
Member Elite
since 2000-02-29
Posts 3793
Tennessee
3 posted 2001-10-12 09:19 PM


You have my Appalachian heart! I too am amazed at the strength of the mighty trees. They are on display now and beginning to be in flaming form. I envy and try to imitate their roots! Gorgeous journey through our shared ancient risings.

Sincerely,
Regina

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

4 posted 2001-10-12 10:51 PM


Glenn Logan, I'd like to welcome you to the forum----and further tell you how much I like this poem. It is an almost perfect description of a card of Tarot---#0----or #22 depending on which tradition you follow, but the interpretation is the same, It is the "link" card of the major arcana, and I have often tried to capture the spirit of it, but have not succeeded quite like this!
Well done, and WELCOME!!!!  

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