"The Slaughter Of The Ents...

Nature has a way of changing with one breath... everything

I deleted the pics I had of what brought this poem... the one marking this was "barely" damaged by comparison to the ones I looked upon... by their thousands...

“The Slaughter Of The Ents…”

 

Just another eve -

December 20 th, 2013 -

another eve…

marking day’s end.

A coming,

a passing

THE passing …of…

 

A world of magyk - flowing past,

crystals swirling falling …twirling forming…

floating finding fingertips’ grasps.

Breaths - a fog rising …enwrapping…

trapping …shimmers, glimmers…

Time beginning to stand …still

enclosing, 'til closing.

The silent silence held taut and fast

with clicks and ticks - that meld and flow

growing, filling, filled ‘til at last

Life - is unbearable wait, giving way

AND each crystalline pause reflects

the was - til the fateful rapture rupture’s

CRACK!!!  becomes the is…

now - their dying day.

 

Row upon row

they walked their world,

as we tended home,

they became the hearth

part and parcel - our soul.

And the littlest of we

played, sang, and lived -

dreamed and dared

to become - as within their harmonies

the very breath that flowed

and echoed within …us and them

marked our comings,

tended our goings.

All our lives they spoke and sang

AND to us we heard

and lived dreams and slept

as their tears nurtured …our lives,

and filled our eyes and hearts

‘til hope returned and we remembered

HOW

to live again… and again.

 

All beings pass

though to where or what

we try to know.

 

Goodbyes are all we have

In empty hands

yet behind our eyes the memories stand.

I miss each friend

…though each breath still has

their taste and always will.

 

Perhaps the winds have new children

awaiting homes within which to dwell

and it’s we that might sing

as they become.

 

Chris

Author's Note

feel free - and I have reread slowly and ensured ALL the words present ARE the ones I intended - even "wait".

Reviews

[J.P. Bristow]

You literally cycled through a myriad of emotions here...truly you are a wordsmith

[Chris]

Jules... you came by... Peter Jackson used CGI, and when the movie was done everyone went home. Here it was a world of ice on one day and eve. The world shattered and home was gone.

[m.s.early]

The poem has the feel of an enchanting spell. The words are forgotten after they're read but in some ethereal way still exist in my mind. A captivating read!

[Chris]

Xavier, was good of you to pause. Thank you for your thoughts...

[Penlady]

...my life has come full circle twice and left me in the center looking at the filled emptiness that surrounds me...memory can bring back visions and cause even more loneliness..because we can no longer feel what we lived, MUST live in the moment and even double the enjoyment sharing because it is what we have. What we do in life causes feelings that are good or bad and since the ones we have shared with up to this point are gone...it is back to the moment again...
Maybe that is what writing is about. Reading what will bring back the feeling....Your writing Chris, IS feeling...

[Chris]

I missed you Barb... hope you are ok.

[Penlady]

Missed you too Chris...glad for your writing...
I'm okay...my daughter is very ill...I wrote you a note explaining...

[Chris]

I'll look for it...hadn't seen it yet

[John]

Though there is a nod to Tolkein with his talking tree-like Ents, the magic (or magyk) evoked by this poem arises out of vivid apprehension of the natural world. If perception is all then we have no choice but to submit to swirling, whirling snow-fall in all its tactile immediacy. This is a carol of comfort, poignantly reminding us, as Dylan Thomas does in his short story A Child's Christmas in Wales, that out of the old year new life will come.

[Chris]

It's been like forever... how the hell are ya? chuckling here

[John]

Jet-lagged but always up for a good poem

[Chris]

a good trip I hope?

[John]

Yes, but man was not meant to travel thousands of miles in just a few hours. You pay for these holidays.

[Chris]

especially the prettier they are...

[John]

Now, now....back to Ents

[Chris]

I never left them... chuckling here

[John]

The poem displays real magic as oppose to the card up the sleeve variety concocted by JRRRRRTolkein.

[Chris]

His has the staying power of attracting the young and giving them dreams... though nowadays I really wonder how many actually read anymore. Imagination is a unique gift - lost when ignored or starved.

[John]

A kind of high Tory Walt Disney who does all the imaginative, qua imaginative, work for the reader. Far better for the young to go back to source of the risible Rings, Beowulf and the Norse sagas and to stay clear of his deathly middlebrow successor, JKRRRowling.

[Chris]

Oooooooo dost I detect the glimmer of public heresy? A Virtual Vacancy of sound financial reason ...verily?

[John]

You detect a dissident voice protesting at the television Christmas schedule filled as it is with Tolkien/Rowling CGI middlebrow myth dreck. And it ain't coz this stuff is popular with kiddies and kidadults alike. It's simply bad, bad, bad, bad.

[Chris]

laughing here... they get to you don't they? And yet so many "love" British TV.

[John]

Outside Britain, the most popular television show is Downton Abbey, which features lords and ladies and proles in attendance. It really is The Lord of the Rings in Edwardian costume.

[Chris]

I love Downton... the acting is first quality and the storyline carries impeccable weight. The sites and sights are grand and I have been near enough to see other views quite for real.

[Chris]

now Coronation Street I will have to research... I am totally unaware of it, its premise, its casting, and its history (at least by that name). Thanks for the info Chris - I will look.

[John]

If not the most popular than certainly one of them. Up there with the Benny Hill show - no dialogue and lots of shots of pretty ladies unnecessarily bending over. Now I have an idea to liven up Upstairs Downton Stairs Abbey. Let Benny Hill and his Angels loose upon the proceedings. Might get a decent line from Lady Maggie Smith.

[Chris]

THAT was deliciously "evil" - she is superb as the Dowager...

[Chris]

Chris - Here the BBC channel neglects that choice...a shame.

[John]

She was superb in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie and has been doing the same turn ever since.

[Chris]

Paychecks are marvelous ways of ensuring activity...

[John]

And there will always be work for actresses who can do a snooty upper class English laydee.

[Chris]

ahhhh... but she still showed humanity via the writer's scripting throughout the seasons I have viewed.

[John]

Smith can bring an extra dimension to an impersonation of a snooty upper class English laydee, but you are still left with snooty upper class English laydee attended to by a prole from Coronation Street. It's a world I can only abide when rendered ridiculous by an Oscar Wilde and not created with the hushed reverence of a Julian 'Snobs' Fellows.

[Chris]

Dayum! and other fancy thoughtlessnesses

[John]

There is so much great English literature that can be dramatised for television and all we keep being given is Austen, Dickens and Forsyte. Sagas indeed!

[Chris]

commercials pay the bills

[John]

And they are often more entertaining that the programmes themselves. At least with a book, you are not turning the page to find an ad for Aunt Bessie's Golden French Fries. Not yet anyway... Having come back from the land of the hard sell, I do appreciate the gentler marketing that goes on here.

[Dean]

One of your very best, Chris. I am enchanted.

[Chris]

ALL of our writes ARE our children ya know? I wasn't goint to post this one til a reader on another of my works said something...

[Dean]

I agree and identify with that.

[Ruth]

Winter brings trials...
to many
yet the beauty of decay
nurtures the unseen
for life does remain dormant
within humanities brittle dreams
just waiting...
waiting
to once again breathe

Stunning piece Chris xx

[Lilac]

Unusual avatar picture brought me here
You have a unique style of writing. I like it....
Second to last stanza - touching with sorrow

[Chris]

The Pic IS me...Ren Fair Garb... the hair and beard are real

[Lilac]

Interesting..........

[olla]

the Columbus Day Storm in 1962 was the first time I remember a natural event changing everything.. it was also the first time I saw my Father cry..

[sharonlee]

A soul touching account Chris... flowed through me like last nights storm.

[Lyn Anderson]

But of course they are. This is a superb write, clean and thoughtful, cleverly constructed. A literary home run.