The Tree, Part 4, by J. W. Cassandra

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The upper limit of suffering was when in their forests worms, insects, butterflies, bees, birds, greater and smaller beasts then, human appeared again. To live in their forests, under their foliages, in their rots, nests, to trim huts, to chop firewood then again to turn everything into senseless devastation… And all they there were. And the Tree kept nodding with his foliage woefully. „Already we trees live again the last minute before the end. This means that we will be the peat then the lignite and, today humans live their last minutes before the today tempestuous weather for fulfilling then their fate as human-trees, later as tree-humans, in the end, as trees. Since everything is ruled by this cycle till once the indeed intelligent Human will come forth, who is not covered by greed of power, that of massacre, devastation but, who is capable of living and using properly possessions trusted to him… Since he will come forth”, the Tree thought, „we saw it… Only when will he come?”

And he couldn’t warn the man pointing on his trunk an axe by any other way than, by moaning and he was praying with his branch-arms for lightning: may it split him just he could die standing! Since, this is the reward in the end of the life of a tree: if he can die standing, he lived not in vain…

Nevertheless, the thunderbolt was late and the Tree fell. Merely his ceasing mind perceived yet that, his tree-siblings were stroke by the same fate and, the tempestuous weather came…

Since, everything is evanescent, only cycle is eternal. Since, everything is evanescent but, change is eternal: if human of the cycle will ever transform at last, the cycles of existence will transform, as well… How and when it will come true, that the Tree didn’t know: memories of his tree-existence didn’t refer to it. Nevertheless, he was sure it will come true, in the end…

And the Tree bowed to his fate sighing: he submerged so as at first the peat then, the lignite could come into existence from him through slow, asphyxiating millions of years.

27/01. 2020., by J. W. Cassandra

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J. W. Cassandra

About the Author: J. W. Cassandra

I am a teacher and a registered author either, at Artisjus as a writer and a poet in Hungary. I write from my childhood, in different genres: fantasies, poems, short stories.

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