Contributed Prayers
Finding a strip mine out in the woods
Tuesday, November 21st, 2006
A poem submitted by Angelyn DeBord. She is an Appalachian-born and raised storyteller, actress, playwright and workshop leader from Gate City, VA.
http://www.geocities.com/mtnstories/
***From a distance *
*the sound is of birds *
*rustling*
*threatened by my approach*
*their flight *
*is imminent.*
*that is the sound…*
*as I draw nearer*
* *
*studying the cattails *
*for the birds’ sudden flight*
*I see that they only sway*
*as they swayed *
*before I was there*
*and I realize the sound *
*was also there*
*before I was there*
*It is the sound *
*of the pebbles*
*falling *
*sprinkling the raw earth surface*
*very gradually*
*a veil of earth, tiny pebbles *
*a mountain slowly *
*cascading in *
*on itself*
*gradually, *
*slowly *
*constantly*
*the veil of pebbles*
*the veil of earth*
*descends*
*in an attempt to heal *
*it’s mortal wound*
*a mountain caving in*
*on the wound gashed *
*in its side*
* *
*the gash is too great*
*undermining *
*the very roots of the mountain*
*soon the oaks *
*will crash*
*the boulders *
*smash *
*the mountain *
*can’t hold *
*itself up *
*anymore *
*It has a mortal wound.*
*Who will be there *
*to see?*
*If a mountain dies*
*and no one is there *
*to hear it*
*does it still *
*make a sound?*
*Can you hear it?*