Forest Lambs
~~~
Wooden fingers snap syncopated beats
As sparks waft into the air like fireflies
Translucent oranges and reds rise in sheets
While white smoke dances into darkened skies
~~~
Coals glow with a fevered satanic fry
Consuming the eagerly sacrificed
Charred remains tumble and shift as they die
No feelings of loss or remorse enticed
~~~
Steadily I feed the dead but not done
Onto raging forest funeral pyre
Blazing symbol of another day won
A chance at some warmth before I retire
~~~
My thanks to you my round bark-covered friend
Certain this is not the end you desire
To the heavens your ringed soul I commend
Your short life given to fuel needed fire
~~~
gratitude for the tree and it’s sacrifice. I wrote about wood chips today, another sacrifice
Thanks Beth! We again find ourselves on the same wavelength.
🌳
great title; reminds of the days we used to go camping. building the fire was the best part…
Yeah, it doesn’t seem like camp until you have a fire going. Enjoy your weekend, my friend!
I hope you have a good weekend as well; today seemed like a nice day for riding…
Very powerful, very real and very dramatic, an artistic and beautiful way of approach to an important subject. Brilliant!
Thank you dear friend!
You’re welcome my friend!
Brilliant! I don’t recall reading anything like this from you before, Brad. What is it about sitting around a campfire that makes everything better?
Thanks Pete. It is about a campfire, but more from the perspective of recognizing each log is being sacrificed, thus the title.
This is such a beautiful tribute to the trees Brad. You know how much the trees and I are bonded. I love the ending especially. They are already burning again this year. Let’s hope not too many are destroyed. Beautiful work Brad. 😘🤗🦋🌸💝love Jonikins