Cooper and I meander down woodland trails. He stays in touch with his wild side, while I calm mind, refresh spirit and get lost in thought. I am especially mindful of frost heave and quagmires recent freeze-thaw cycles continue to squish across our passage. While off the beaten path and under the spell of quietude, I become aware of a surprising number of treeless slopes and hollows. The whys and wherefores strike doleful heartstrings.
Eventually we happen upon a gnarly oak on secluded Rock Springs Church grounds. The imposing skeleton and leafless canopy strikes an attitude of defiance, yet speaks softly of bittersweet dirges in the churchyard cemetery. I take a moment to understand the whispers of winter winds in its bare branches. In mind’s eye the old oak endures as worthy allegory of voiceless pandemonium—the silent outcry by Mother Nature against indiscriminate deforestation.
Hue and cry raised from public podium
Laments bare hollows where trees once stood.
Thus highlights voiceless pandemonium
Within thunderous quietude of the wood.
© Ilija Lukić 2021
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| Voiceless Pandemonium |
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