Taken
Published in Honeyguide Literary Magazine Issue 7 (2023)
We had always gathered for those who were no more, but this gathering for the trees was different. We circled around their toppled bodies. Reverence was there, and horror. We keened for them. Old Anana said the sacred words, recited them to the trees, to the fallen trees. We listened carefully, all of us, hoping for understanding.
Taken by lightning, we bless the sky
Taken by hunger, we bless the beetle
Taken by floods, we bless the water
Taken by drought, we bless the sun
Taken by ruin, we bless the rot
Taken by storm, we bless the wind
Taken by lack, we bless the earth
But there was to be no understanding. How could there be? The tree spirits did not understand either, for they did not leave. They stayed, hovering above their fallen trunks, their leafy, golden voices calling out, calling out, filling the air with their want. And the green trees left standing, stretching skyward, still filled with the light of the sun, answered back, telling them to stay.
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