We called it the lightning tree. Stunted and blackened it stood resolute, stark against the moon-bright night, while shooting stars circled wildly over the soft, velvet plain. Here we farmed, here cattle roamed over long-stemmed grass and here we were happy.
but drought-stricken land
thirsted for seven summers:
grass withered, we fled.
The lightning tree still stands, its final branch fallen, the stars the only witnesses. Finally, the rains return, falling softly, pattering on the parched land, washing over sun-bleached rocks and the desolate dried-up plain.
the ground drinks deeply
yellow and pink flowers bloom
but no-one will see.
The lightning tree still stands, but no-one sees but the stars.
~~~~~~~~
Image credit: Tasos Mansour @ Unsplash
The image shows a crooked tree with bare branches. In the background stars in the sky can be seen forming streaks in a circular fashion.
Written in response to Sadje‘s What Do You See #133 photo prompt
Very powerful depiction of that ever-present witness, Chris 🙂
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Thanks very much, Tom! 🙂
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I’ve re-written & republished the intro to that old series you enjoyed, so I hope it’s a fun read for you! 🙂
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Look forward to it, Tom!
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Very moving story Chris. We are headed that way if we don’t take heed. Thanks for joining in
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It’s already happening in some of the more remote communities here. Tragic for the small-scale farmers.
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Unfortunately it is. So sad
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[…] The lightning tree — luna’s on line […]
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Aw, this is so moving Chris..
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Thank you, Mich 🙂
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Lovely depiction of steadfastness through change.
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Thanks very much, Matthew.
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How sad ☹️
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Unfortunately so.
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A beautifully descriptive piece, Chris, with a dark and sad undertone. Undoubtedly human influence has taken its toll – for every positive there is a negative that those in power seem to want to ignore.
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Thanks, Chris. Worsening droughts have had a serious impact on rural communities here. I read somewhere that parts of the Western Cape province where I stay will become uninhabitable within 10 years.
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The World has always had a slowly changing climate, so, in some ways, this is perhaps inevitable. The worrying thing is that the pace of this change has accelerated disproportionately. Sad times.
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A vivid poem, Chris! We seem to be rushing toward human extinction. I like that you see flowers surviving us rather than cockroaches! ❤
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A more pleasant prospect!🌼
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Beautiful ♥️🌱🌿🌹🌠🌟❤️
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Thank you!🤗
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You’re very welcome ❤🌹
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Really liked this Chris.
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Thanks very much, Di.🌼
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I really like this poem, Chris.
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Thanks, Jacqui! 🌻
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Your prose is as beautiful as your poetry, Chris. I love this write. ❤️
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What a lovely compliment! Thanks, Jeff.🤗
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Very vivid words, Chris. This describes our wild and harsh country beautifully.
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Thanks very much, Robbie. This has been the fate of several small communities not so far away.
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That was powerful! The very last part gave me goosebumps!
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I’m pleased those words were effective!
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No happy ending at your poem, I like that .
It goes well with, let’s say, the extinction of voices who spoke of Mother Earth, like the NA Indians.
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The rural communities that are being affected by the worsening drought are more than likely the descendants of the ancient hunter-gatherer groups who were driven off that same land by the first farmers. So, yes, an excellent comparison.
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I am glad that flowers bloomed. We cannot abandon hope, though the times are not good. Wonderfully written, Chris.
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That is the way of the land here. Flower seeds will lie dormant for years to be awoken by the eventual rains. Perhaps we can draw some comfort from this.
Thanks, Punam.🌺
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How I wish we start caring before it becomes a harsh reality. Sad, true, and moving poem. Beautifully written.
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Let’s hope so, Indira. Thank you.🌺
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Reblogged this on Sharing Thoughts.
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Thanks so much for sharing!🤗🌼🌻
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A very moving piece, Chris! Superbly written.
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Thanks so much, Eugenia!
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You’re welcome, Chris!
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🤗
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This reminds me of the ‘Dust Bowl’ era of the US… when too much land was farmed and then no rain, sad when the sky has no witnesses. But maybe the fae in the tree? I would so like to believe in some magic.
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The magic of the ancestors remains in the flowers that carpet the land after the rains come, but the land cannot sustain more than the lightest of human interference.
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I think there are some Native Peoples who already know that… But there are always those that want more than the land can give.
I tried playing with my food. I cut the bottoms off of brussel sprouts and put them in water. It took awhile but little bitty brussel sprouts are growing. I transfered them over to my raised garden today – just to see what happens. 🙂
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Sprouting sprouts! How exciting, especially as I am one of the few folk that really appreciate a brussel sprout! 🙂
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Kind of like garlic, a flavor one either likes or doesn’t. I read somewhere that some Royal family member doesn’t like garlic so no one in the royal household can eat it! Not allowed in the kitchens!! Really??
Let me know if you try sprouting sprouts. 😀
Being I’m more from the city than the country the first time I saw brussels on their stalk… well I was surprised. In some fancy stores you can buy brussels on the stalk! I bet that stalk would be great cut up for veggie stock. 😀
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I didn’t know about the Royals and garlic. Will let you know about the sprouts… it’s only me who likes them!
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My computer news feed has more than enough stories about the Queen (II) and her crew. I don’t read them all. But sometimes it is a fun distraction.
I think the sprouts would work better with real (not frozen, but if they’ve gott a bottom… you could try it. I only did four in a shallow dish and kept them with water – then I started noticing the green ‘dots’… We’ll see what happens. Mine were getting afternoon sun.
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Beautifully written
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Thank you, Yasmine! 😊
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[…] Chris Hall; The lightning tree […]
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A moving poem, Chris! A story that continues to repeat… 🙁
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The sad story of our changing climate.
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Yip 🙁
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Wow – Chris – you breathed such life into this picture. I just love this!
Sincerely,
David
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Thanks very much, David!
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Such a wonderful response to the prompt. I love how you’ve explored the phases undergone by the tree, the seasons – 7 summers!, to its present state. Simply a stunning and evocative read it is.
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What a lovely thing to say, Lamittan. Thank you!😊🤗
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You’re much welcome, dear Chris. ❤
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