Holding Back the Tide
Fighting the Good Fight
I was taking a walk thinking about people I know that continue to fight winless battles and how they do not allow the inevitability of the outcome deter them. I was thinking about how different they are from me who will fight but also weighs each part of the effort to decide whether or not the battle is truly (1) worthwhile (2) winnable, and (3) what cost will my effort exact on me and those around me. Don’t get me wrong- I love and admire Don Quixote’s, Robin Hood’s, Rhett Butler’s…I could go on…but I am not one. Yet, if this world did not have such brave and resolute souls willing to take on impossible dreams, much would be missing, much would be lost.
Suddenly, looming before me was a tree that was not a tree - I am certain it was an Ent that allowed me to briefly see it so that I would remember to admire such effort, devotion, and courage. I am certain that if I should return to this spot, the Ent will be gone.
And so, I wrote a little poem of sorts to recognize those who dare to go against the inevitable, whose commitment to truth and integrity will not be stilled, who fight unwinnable battles simply because it’s the right thing to do.
Holding Back the Tide
I was on a short autumn jaunt
When I came upon an Ent
In the middle of a yawn.
Arms outstretched
Holding back the tide
Of orange, yellow, red
In a splash of green he stood
In the center of this wood
Reaching toward the sky.
Winter's deadly bite
Like a toothy maw did loom
Does he even know...he's doomed?
I could not help but pity him
I could not help but stare.
He only glanced at me and sighed
He did not seem to care.
Treetastic!
Wow! Sure looks like an Ent to me.....
It may be just how my mind works, but I spend a lot of time in wilderness areas, and even in remnant urban forest, and there always seems to be, in any such place, one particularly special tree. Not always the largest, and not necessarily the oldest, but a tree which feels like a guardian, or a centre point. My Australian Aboriginal friends mights say "a tree elder."
You certainly found one!
My poem "Appearance" is about one such example - a group of Dryads... https://davidkirkby.substack.com/p/appearance
(Hi Tracy - I just dropped in because you liked - and restacked - my "How To Find One." Sincere thanks for that! You maybe found it via Jed's restack? Sometimes Substack seems like a weird forest to me. I end up wandering for hours, and finding lovely things...)
Best Wishes from Australia - Dave :)