The Tree and The Chopper

The day begins,
With random thoughts,
About life and death,
And a burning desire,
For food,
Without which there’s no life,
And death’s a surety.

I think about the day ahead,
And the chores I have,
And unimportant.
Washing, cleaning, drying,
Have significance none,
Breathing, living and eating is all I care.

Sadly though,
The life of a chopper,
Isn’t what you believe.
Today I have nothing,
Family, money or food,
But I don’t want a family,
Or money, only food.

A little work,
Round the corner,
Reveals its presence,
When an old man comes to the house,
And asks for,
Some good, dry wood.
I can now smell the food.

I pick my axe,
Kept in the corner,
In the dimly lit room,
A little rusted,
A little blunt,
But’s been a friend,
Since ages.

The forest’s near,
The sky is clear,
After the night’s rain,
The path is soggy,
And squishes beneath my feet,
Oozing out water,
Like earth shedding tears.

Barefoot, bare skin,
I trot through the way,
A warm cup of milk,
And a chicken breast,
With a little bread,
Is all I can see,
And smile.

A glorious tree stands in the way,
Rising to the heavens,
Its trunk mighty,
Enough for a hundred staffs,
The branches swollen with pride,
And leaves glistening green,
With yester night’s rain.

I take position,
And aim to strike,
The handle moves,
And leaves a deep scar,
On the dead skin,
The mighty roars, the forest shakes,
And blood spurts out.

Red, glistening,
A little thick,
But runny,
A little sticky,
Turning somewhat brown,
Marking the way as it flows on the ground,
Just like human blood.

Why doth thou hurt me,
Oh human,
I give you life,
And the means to live,
You eat my fruits,
And make your homes,
And still, you take my life away?

Why doth thou hurt me,
Oh human,
You kill my brothers,
You hurt my family,
You take our wood,
You burn our forests,
Why so unforgiving and cruel?

Doth thou not know love,
Oh human,
And peace and harmony,
Don’t you have family,
Don’t you adore friends,
You disrupt our lives,
And take away our happiness?


I listen to him,
A tear drops from my eye,
This unmoving object,
Lives a disturbed life,
Because of me,
And humans,
Like me.

I’m sorry,
I say,
A greedy breed we are,
I say,
Unfaithful, unloving,
A disgraceful lot,
I say.

Mother nature gave us hearts,
To love,
But she also gave us minds,
To learn,
But we became slaves,
Of our minds,
And desires.

We forget the harmony,
We forget the joys,
Of living,
And surrender our hearts,
To cravings and fantasies,
And yearnings
Of the mind.

I look at the scar I gave,
I see the blood I spilled,
I see its marks,
And dry blood on the grass below,
The smell of blood rises in the air,
And with agony and grief,
I cry some more.

The tree calls me close,
With a warm hug,
It holds me,
Its branches wrap around,
The leaves give warmth,
The swollen branches pat my back,
I hear the mighty crying.

Then all of a sudden,
With a thundering roar,
The forgotten,
Ill-will hunger announces,
And a pain assiduous,
Shoots in my belly.

The hug ends,
The tree stands,
I tremble with fear in my eyes,
Holding my breath unknowingly,
And belly with hands,
Silence hangs in air,
And a growl roars again.

The tree then speaks,
And asserts its will,
I stand in shock,
Gaping at the mighty,
With the mighty heart,
Who talks of his own fall,
With grace and humility.

Kill me, oh human,
For my death,
Shall serve you purpose,
And alleviate your misery,
Your hunger,
I shall burn happily,
If it gives you food.

I give you my word,
We will hide our blood,
Our cries,
We will hold to ourselves,
The pain and strife,
Shed upon us,
By mother nature’s sons.

I tell you,
Oh human,
Cut me,
Burn me,
Eat from me,
Wear me,
Take my flesh,
And use it,
For we serve your well-being while alive,
And nothing shall make us happier,
To come to use,
Even when we die.


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