A Triptych: From the Mountains

(1) From the mountains to a hurricane

From the Pacific mountains
they set them down,
those lofty pines.
With deliberate chainsaws,
they shattered the silent nights
while ears could still hear
the buildings rising.

The armies marched apace.
While broken splintered pillars
were loaded like slain ghetto victims,
on to cross country wheels.
They were less majestic,
lying prone,
not moved by winds
off distant shores.

The flatbed hearses
all in a row,
conveyed their cargo ====
a caravan of progress
down the highway.

All milling about,
some stood for hours
in
line
at
the
depot
waiting
for the hurricane to arrive.


(2) From the mountains - to a cemetery

From the Tatra mountains of Poland,
the wind saw them cut down.
Those lofty pines were
Once supple, and strong.
Now like shattered glass,
the silent nights
can only hear the saplings' sighs.

The armies marched apace
while splintered branches,
and brittle, mangled twigs,
were piled onto pushcarts.

The cargo loaded,
=== lying prone ===
unmoved by prayers;
they never heard from
those who were not there.

Boxcar hearses
on cross country wheels,
those caravans of progress
hauled half-dead timber
down groaning tracks.

In the shadow of Gerlach, *
those once majestic pines,
are now a graveyard's raw material.
Milling about,
they stand for hours
in line for selection,
soon to be sawdust.

* the name of the highest peak of the
Tatra Mountains


(3) From the mountains - to a mountain

From the oldest mountains,
he was told to cut down
those ancient trees
made strong by prescribed flames.
Lightning shattered
the silent nights,
and the water drowned
the saplings' sighs.

They had marched apace,
two by two,
to save the world from itself,
loaded like victims,
the would-be survivors.

The cargo secured,
they were unable to move
until the storm began;
There was a clap of thunder,
then came the fear of dying
for those who were part
of an unnatural selection,
a floating caravan of One.

Time's shadow passed over
the devastation, until finally,
two left the graveyard.
One returned with the branch
of hope.

Atop a Turkish mountain,
millennia away
from the peaceful mountains,
from the Tatra mountains,
and further still
from the forest's necessary surface fires,
some began to plant
the seeds again.