Post by xunpredictablel on Jan 20, 2010 21:25:41 GMT -5
|TITLE| The Dance of Tree and Human
|RATING| PG13
|GENRE| Pourquois tale (Creation Myth)
|NOTES| I wrote this for a project in lit and wanted to share it with everyone. I thought it was pretty damn cool
“It is not SAFE!” the creak of the giant tree screamed through the forest. The smaller trees shuddered; the wizened tree’s anger was not something they expected.
“What if there is more land to explore? What if we are wasting our lives here when there are greater things to discover?”
The makeshift eyes of the giant tree widened, taken aback by the audacity of the young ones.
“You are not to question the ways of our Mother. She should punish you greatly for your ignorance.” With that, the young ones quieted themselves, their roots filled with burning rage. Their rebellion was important to them and it grew more important, even, than their Mother and her disappointment.
So, one dreadful night (and it was so, because the stars were not shining and the clouds were covering their Mother’s eye; the moon) when all the land was whooshing with the breath of the sleeping trees, two of the youngest trees pulled their roots from the ground. They wobbled from their resting place. The anticipation, rage at their lazy kind, and excitement at the world caused their roots to burn with emotion. They left dead ground in their wake, the smoldering leaves making way for the desert. Their wish for something greater than they had lead to the ultimate demise of their brethren, with whom they spent such a long time, growing and learning to open their eyes.
The trees traveled the world until finally; they stopped at a lake to drink the luscious water.
“I never knew how delicious this water was,” and so they sat, filling their parched bodies with water. “Our roots were quite selfish for taking all the water for themselves, although we did grow from it.”
They built four walls to protect them from the judgmental wind. Without the constant wind beating and callusing them, their skin grew soft to the touch. Without animals to scurry up their branches, they grew limp and fell into hair. Their roots grew stronger from the traveling and formed two long limbs. Two branches with leafy fingers were needed to cup the water to their searching mouths. Thus, the trees grew arms for reaching and legs for running.
Their faces lost their harsh features and their hair was soft. Everything withered about the two was lost with their seemingly luxurious lifestyle. Their hands lead to fingers and their feet lead to toes and they were ecstatic with their new identities. When they looked into the water, now, they found themselves attractive. They decided to return to their home, to show their brothers what they’d learned. However, when they reached the patch of land, they found that home was no longer there. It had only been a week, perhaps two, but their friends were all dried stumps, simply remnants of who they used to be. The men (for that is what they became) laid on the ashen ground and mourned their mistakes, and that is how man learned the tainted sorrow.
The men grew and their shoulders slouched because of the weight of their loneliness. It was only the two of them and they knew no romance with a young woman. However, this is what they both wished, so they went to find a forest.
The journey took days. The ruined path they left when they were transforming was still there, still black against the green. The consequences of their decisions haunted them still, but they carried on, fighting the urge to lay and die with their old friends. They came to a forest and talked to the trees, but they were scared of the strange beings walking amongst them. The friends knew they would find no women here. They traveled to the next forest and searched to no avail, yet again. The third forest, however, held choices. There were young trees, dancing trees, which were so free of spirit that their limbs reached up to the sky in celebration of life. The men were excited, but frightened at the possibility of rejection. They confronted the young ones at night and told them what they wished from them. They called them beautiful and they obliged. The women simply transformed. They told the men that their bark was already soft, that they must only want to become human. The men were intrigued and took the women to be theirs.
Here began the tale of human kind. The women bore the men children, beautiful children with tall, long limbs and intricate green hair. Their eyes and bodies were a pale green, nearly bright white, and animals reveled in their different, although not unpleasant, appearance. The girl children danced and became the nymphets of the forest. The males hunted and became protectors of their kind. The humans were friends of all, peacemakers in times of war, and philosophers. Their freedom of thought enraptured the minds of animal and tree alike. The trees longed to become like the human kind, but the humans sometimes regretted their own transformation. Therefore, the humans did not share their secret ways of changing. The trees were pleasant to look at, and even more pleasant to converse with. They were wise and soon became close confidants to the humans. Nature and mankind ruled together in the most perfect sense, and there was no bad for a long time. Even when
the dread and sorrow came, the trees would weep cleansing tears and the tears of the humans would ease the tension of their roots. It was a way of balance – truly how the world was meant to be. All decided that this was good.
|RATING| PG13
|GENRE| Pourquois tale (Creation Myth)
|NOTES| I wrote this for a project in lit and wanted to share it with everyone. I thought it was pretty damn cool
“It is not SAFE!” the creak of the giant tree screamed through the forest. The smaller trees shuddered; the wizened tree’s anger was not something they expected.
“What if there is more land to explore? What if we are wasting our lives here when there are greater things to discover?”
The makeshift eyes of the giant tree widened, taken aback by the audacity of the young ones.
“You are not to question the ways of our Mother. She should punish you greatly for your ignorance.” With that, the young ones quieted themselves, their roots filled with burning rage. Their rebellion was important to them and it grew more important, even, than their Mother and her disappointment.
So, one dreadful night (and it was so, because the stars were not shining and the clouds were covering their Mother’s eye; the moon) when all the land was whooshing with the breath of the sleeping trees, two of the youngest trees pulled their roots from the ground. They wobbled from their resting place. The anticipation, rage at their lazy kind, and excitement at the world caused their roots to burn with emotion. They left dead ground in their wake, the smoldering leaves making way for the desert. Their wish for something greater than they had lead to the ultimate demise of their brethren, with whom they spent such a long time, growing and learning to open their eyes.
The trees traveled the world until finally; they stopped at a lake to drink the luscious water.
“I never knew how delicious this water was,” and so they sat, filling their parched bodies with water. “Our roots were quite selfish for taking all the water for themselves, although we did grow from it.”
They built four walls to protect them from the judgmental wind. Without the constant wind beating and callusing them, their skin grew soft to the touch. Without animals to scurry up their branches, they grew limp and fell into hair. Their roots grew stronger from the traveling and formed two long limbs. Two branches with leafy fingers were needed to cup the water to their searching mouths. Thus, the trees grew arms for reaching and legs for running.
Their faces lost their harsh features and their hair was soft. Everything withered about the two was lost with their seemingly luxurious lifestyle. Their hands lead to fingers and their feet lead to toes and they were ecstatic with their new identities. When they looked into the water, now, they found themselves attractive. They decided to return to their home, to show their brothers what they’d learned. However, when they reached the patch of land, they found that home was no longer there. It had only been a week, perhaps two, but their friends were all dried stumps, simply remnants of who they used to be. The men (for that is what they became) laid on the ashen ground and mourned their mistakes, and that is how man learned the tainted sorrow.
The men grew and their shoulders slouched because of the weight of their loneliness. It was only the two of them and they knew no romance with a young woman. However, this is what they both wished, so they went to find a forest.
The journey took days. The ruined path they left when they were transforming was still there, still black against the green. The consequences of their decisions haunted them still, but they carried on, fighting the urge to lay and die with their old friends. They came to a forest and talked to the trees, but they were scared of the strange beings walking amongst them. The friends knew they would find no women here. They traveled to the next forest and searched to no avail, yet again. The third forest, however, held choices. There were young trees, dancing trees, which were so free of spirit that their limbs reached up to the sky in celebration of life. The men were excited, but frightened at the possibility of rejection. They confronted the young ones at night and told them what they wished from them. They called them beautiful and they obliged. The women simply transformed. They told the men that their bark was already soft, that they must only want to become human. The men were intrigued and took the women to be theirs.
Here began the tale of human kind. The women bore the men children, beautiful children with tall, long limbs and intricate green hair. Their eyes and bodies were a pale green, nearly bright white, and animals reveled in their different, although not unpleasant, appearance. The girl children danced and became the nymphets of the forest. The males hunted and became protectors of their kind. The humans were friends of all, peacemakers in times of war, and philosophers. Their freedom of thought enraptured the minds of animal and tree alike. The trees longed to become like the human kind, but the humans sometimes regretted their own transformation. Therefore, the humans did not share their secret ways of changing. The trees were pleasant to look at, and even more pleasant to converse with. They were wise and soon became close confidants to the humans. Nature and mankind ruled together in the most perfect sense, and there was no bad for a long time. Even when
the dread and sorrow came, the trees would weep cleansing tears and the tears of the humans would ease the tension of their roots. It was a way of balance – truly how the world was meant to be. All decided that this was good.
