Writer Status (so they say!)
I hope you enjoy a different perspective and thanks for the opportunity to participate.
When the chilling winds begin to blow from the north and the frozen tears that fall from the skies start to descend, the humans commence with their
merriment. From high atop the ridge line one can view their world below. They seem as busy as the bees in summer, toiling endlessly, as if stockpiling
warm nectar. It is not nectar the humans crave or need at this time. Brightly colored packages and lights, everywhere, as if the town is aflame. Their
young spend most days sliding across the frozen lakes and building forts in the snow while their parents, exhausted no doubt, travel back and forth,
plodding back and forth amassing great amounts of food and dazzling, stunning arrays. Music drifts up and ascends through the ravine, haunting and
threatening as if it is their battle hymn.
♫ Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree ♫
This was a season of mourning for my kind, a time of reverence and lamenting of those who had gone before and a sense of foreboding and apprehension
enveloping those of us who may be taken this time. We would hold our old friend, the snow, in our arms like a shield and hope for a quick and
The mature and strong are often chosen first. Generations lost to the first strike. After the initial attack, our young are repeatedly left
defenseless and sobbing, long into the night, awash in the gray moonlight. The fresh fallen powder is not enough to hide them away from the
assailants. They will come, at first light of dawn, this is their festival day.
Giggling and laughter precedes their sprint up the hillside. Horrid, gamin like, creatures gather all around us now. My kindred, cut down in the prime
of their lives, have no defense against the sharp blades of our enemies.
Can no one hear our cries? Is this our only lot in life? Only being permitted to enjoy the warmth of the sun, briefly, and provide a temporary home to
our companions the crossbills and waxwings for a short time. The mother earth tries, desperately, to secure our footing but, it is unavailing.
The first blows come only after our limbs have been pulled and tugged at, shaken with no remorse as our core is chopped at and our hearts begin to
bleed. The air becomes thick with our enemies revelry and triumph as our young tremble with fear. Even our feathered brethren, sensing the army’s
arrival, made their escape, early, shrieking and calling for help that would not come.
My attacker hands his weapon off to his young comrade. An opportunity for training, perhaps? With three more blows I am taken down. I fall to the side
like a rock, broken from the rains, falling away from its mountain top home. I am spent and as good as dead while the life blood oozes from my wounds.
I am bound with rope and lugged down the hillside. Across rocks my lifeless body bumps as pieces of me fall away. Down, down to their lair across the
icy creek and into the streets. Other humans, as I am dragged, cheer and praise my killers for the magnificent prize earned by their campaign.
My spiritless corpse will be erected in their castle for days, adorned with trinkets and ornaments. Shackled with hot strings of celebratory light as
my robust green limbs turn to a matte brown signifying my complete and total death. There will be dancing and kissing, exchanges of excessive and
outrageous awards. Not one human noticing my tears streaming down my moribund body or caring for the heartache of my family on the hillside.
When their victory celebrations are complete and their gluttonous bellies full from their lavish feasting I will be cast into the communal grave with
my loved ones. Dry and brittle, my usefulness to them finished and, finally, I shall be returned to the earth from where I first came. Someday, I will
rise again from the gross intemperance of this place when my loyal familiar, the wind, carries me back to my home on the hill and I’ll stand once
more, futilely perhaps, in defiance of the of the humans that massacre, annually, my kind.
edit on 3-12-2016 by TNMockingbird because: (no reason given)