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The Old Man Leaves Man
To His Destruction

Judith Moriarty
NoahsHouse@adelphia.net
1-4-4



The sun no longer shines in the land of forever war.The moon with one last wearisome look, took her silver dust and escaped to a distant galaxy, to dance amongst the stars of peace. The Old Man of the Mountain, his craggy face worn and polished from many a storm, wrapped a garland of pine boughs, intertwined with lilac blooms and grape vines around her fragile frame and walked with her along the Milky Way in the hushed silence of timeless majesty.
 
An odd couple to be sure, this man of granite fortitude, courage and comforting embrace. His deeply lined countenance, bore the worn pathways of torrential rains, biting sleet, and winter's blizzards isolating loneliness. Summer's warmth would see him brush the last iced tear from darkened eyes, no man could see. He, the guardian of northern forests, noted man's intrusive plunder. Decades passed, his eyes sunk deeper, that men below of mirth and greed might not see an Old Man weep.
 
In anguished watchfulness, he sobbed, as friends below; the bridal pines, the swaying birch, the ancient oaks who saw his birth, the mischievous hemlocks, and autumn's symphony of youthful maples cried out in silent sepulcher, that they be saved from massacre. The Old Man knew that men of heartless, cruel contempt, could not hear the cries of trees. And so they came with saws and hatchets, logging trucks and big machines.
 
They chopped and hacked, stripped and raped, until the desecration was complete. Far below he saw the carnage, of lifeless skeletal murdered friends. Gone the song birds joyful laughter, woodland creatures, the trees soft chatter. Parking lots, and ribbon concrete, tourist shops, neon motels, and rowdy tourists; dressed in plaids and argil socks, came in cars, trucks, and trailers grand to photograph the Old Man's grief.
 
Some climbed upon his lofty brow, their vulgar laughter echoed loud over consecrated ground that held a mighty massacre. They could not see nor did they care, of poisoned streams and toxic air. He alone could hear the cries of carnage in the forests north. Then came the semis filled with waste, garbage, from surrounding towns and concrete canyons out of state. Burning gasses filled the air, it's then he knew his Watch was ended.
 
She came to him one moonlit night, and under clouds heavy midst, he heaved a final sob and left. No
one heard him leave in thunder, he simply took her in his arms, as chariots of stars carried them off. They traveled through the moonless night over oceans, rivers, and streams polluted. Over forests and mountains plundered, and war torn lands soaked with blood. They heard the mighty sounds of missiles, bombs, and guns and little shredded children weeping.
 
She translucent, ever changing, sometimes silver, sometimes waning, held his blackened granite hand, light and darkness now were one. His scars visible, hers hidden in craters deep, over a turquoise planet now filled with sorrow. And just before the Man of Granite and Moonlit Maiden took their leave, to walk along the Milky Way- they stopped and whispered to the watchful warriors left behind," We go to find a place for thee, a place of sun and moon and stars, of clapping trees and pristine streams. A place that's absent of all strife, where lamb and lion play together. Stay the course and do not falter, keep the light and never fear, we'll soon return with the Prince of Peace."
 
See - http://www.nhparks.state.nh.us/ParksPages/franconianotch/oldman.html


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