Two Halves Of A Whole (Forest, Forest, What Happens In The Night?)
All was dark. The leaves rustled as a cool night breeze blew across the sky, illuminated by the lone orb of light hanging high in the heavens. The trees stood, looming over the forest floor and the creatures which roamed the woods during the day retreated into the safety of their wooded homes. The men came back from a day of work, again leaving the trees to rest in peace. But through a clearing, one could see a body, rising off the ground as if covered by fallen leaves, but in actuality formed by them. “Oh it’s just a log” one might think to himself, but then the acorns where its eyes should have been began to twitch, and they opened. Its mouth, a knot in a tree trunk opened. For a moment, one might ask what wise words this sage of the woods, this manifestation of nature, might have to offer, but all thought would have been drowned out as the scream it wooden orifice emitted pierced the minds of everything around it, so much so that the trees bent back in fear, the shrubs raised their tiny branches in submission, and the only thing going through one’s mind was the pure agony of this twisted, demented psychic scream. Then, as quickly as it came, all was silent. All, was dark.
Two Halves Of A Whole (Live Earth)
The wooded depths lit up, and the first gleams of sunlight scattered about the forest floor with its gentle rays. Little critters prancing around, birds singing their sweet song high in the canopies, the shrubs swaying in the light breeze, the soul of the forest seemed to permeate all that dwelled in it. As one steps into the woods, one’s mood floats into the heavens, coming to a rest on cloud nine and letting the drops of joy flow back into the greens below. The zephyr which saturates the air with its mysterious whisper fills one’s ears with the wandering voices of travelers who tread the forests accompanied. At the heart of the benevolent entity rests its spirit, feminine and graceful in figure, motherly and kind in nature. As her eyes open slowly, her hands raise up and the slender body of the earthmother floats on the top of the stump of an old tree, having long bid goodbye to its home at the hands of the mechanical beats of the world without. The tree, long since it felt the touch of life, began radiating with renewed fervor, feeling that sought-after gift once more. Its roots seemed to illuminate, its stump glowed, and the knot at its centre hummed at the purity of the light which enveloped it. Then, as if heaven had opened up, the entire forest glistened and shone as bright as the sun, the stump beginning to stretch its long dead limbs. It siphoned the life off the air around it, and with hope reborn, leapt up to the canopy where it could hear the chirping of the birds once more.
