THE HANDS of MAN
Since time began there has been a tree of life, somewhere,
a small tree which grew and grew, sprouting branches
and each season of fertility, it would seed itself over and
over again, then, with the help of the wind, other trees
joined them until there stood a forest, a community of foliage..
There, began the cross polination of each species, and this
was no bad thing, for from such of natures wonderous ways
came variety and individuality, not always understood by
the Elders of the forest...the Oaks, the Poplars and the Firs.
"We were here first" they cried in crushed indignation
"then there was space, room for our children to seed and grow,
keeping our species intact to live forever in our image"
Then Gaia stepped forward, speaking words of wariness,
"In time you will learn...it is not cross pollination of any type
you should fear, but an intruder of a very different kind"
The trees laughed..."We are strong and we are many now,
and...we have the king of our forest still standing proud in the
middle of us all, we just feel that if we are not careful...we,
the original inhabitants will have fewer and fewer descendents"
Gaia stood before them and warned them yet again
"None of you will be able to withstand what is before you,
there is a new species surrounding you and your king,
nomatter if you are one of the first roots or one of the hybrids,
you will all fall before the hands of this violent invader"
The Elders cried out in defense of their wisdom...
"We shall not fall, but if space is so important to this newcomer,
we will simply hold back our branches and take up less space for
our forest is a special place and we will not be threatened.
We shall welcome the newcomers and let them take up root
in the more barren lands surrounding our community,
they can be the new visions of tomorrow, we will survive"
Gaia withdrew with one last word of warning
"The tree of life and all other trees surrounding it
would have existed for hundreds more years,
but you shall be infiltrated by the Hands of Man...
who believes that your worth is only greater to him,
dead ..... for he is without hope nor vision for the future"
(c) ZYDHA HART 2007