The Apple Tree Is Dieing ©©

The night is cold as a light snow falls from the heavens settling on the hard surface of the pond.
Squatting I look out into the darkness and listen to the silence.
The wind stirs up the loose snow into a whirlwind of dancing spectres spotlighted by the full moon in the night sky,
The stars twinkle down, winking at me from every corner of the universe.

In the spring the blossoms fill the meadows with their scent as the deer wander through.
Summer displays the fruits of a lush Spring as Fall’s harvest colors splash across the world like a blazing fire across the horizon.
Sunsets bath us in the warmth of their light
The wilderness is a gallery of life and love surpassed by nothing man could ever create
In the vast expanse of nature there is only one creator, one architect of the world

Out here there is nothing but everything anyone could ever desire.
The howl of the wind sings to you in the night.
The cry of a loon in the dieing night sky, wishing you a good night
The silhouette of that lone wolf on the edge of the world looking out at the end of the world as it approaches through the trees.
A wise owl perched on a limb cries for tomorrow as he sees what the wolf sees.

Mane has come 10,000 years from paradise to a world of concrete and glass
Green is replaced by grey, as the air changes to dust.
The rain burns when the sun is not and the rivers are turning to sand.
Sounds of cars exist where birds once could be heard
And the snow, is not white but grey
The wind doesn’t dance anymore as it beats the earth with angry fists

As the grey plague creeps closer into the future, the music of nature will slowly die away.
Like everything else man touches
Somewhere out there, lost in a world of time and history is an apple tree
It has been there since the beginning of time bearing fruit and seed to feed the world
But it’s thirsty for a drink and some sun to feed on so that it could grow its fruit
The roots are rotting from underneath while the leaves burn in the sunlight.

You can never better perfection; only ruin it

Walker