When the bombs dropped
and the sky was lit with fire
and the ground shook
as if it were crumbling from itself,
Leh took to the forest
and hid among the trees
and the ferns.
A prism of color
washed along the clouds
forming deep hues about the edges
that trembled like rainbows
stretched to breaking.
And in that moment,
the sun
began to fade.
A dying flame
quenched in oil and fuel
as the last remaining light was
snuffed out against black.
Leh thought of what was to be lost,
of sand,
of ocean,
of stars and flowers,
of all she loved
and even more.
Everyone she knew,
smeared out in one final
act
of aggressive hate.
And the whimper of life
was gone in a hushed explosion
that tore skin from flesh,
flesh from bone,
bone from marrow.
As she wept,
the ferns lifted about her
and the trees drooped
and vines caressed the air
into a sphere that kept the fire away.
There were no gods laughing
as the last child sobbed its final tears
where even smoke is burnt
by the showers of flame.
Inside the cocoon,
Leh felt the Earth seize
in great spasms
that rocked the
tiny pod.
The air inside was clear
and as fresh as April,
teasing her nose and
washing her skin in luscious silk.
Fulminate upon this wondrous land,
a million fingers wrapped in bomb
to tear the breath from stuttering lips
taking the sorrow away
as candy from the mouth
of a screaming child.
The last of the forest
swelled
and sheathed Leh
from the grief beyond,
of burning babes,
cauterized animal,
and scalded populace,
saving her single soul
from terror.
She wept so deeply,
her eyes sealed shut
and her mouth became but a frown
etched forevermore upon
gripping lips.
The moans of the massacred
hummed beyond
the seed that enclosed Leh
and she tried to scream,
but no sound would come,
and her death would have been an easier ally
if only the peace of it would promise her
expiration.
The soft inside cradled her
from despair,
a moist that shielded her skin
from blister
and burn and rocked her into a deep sleep
that sounded of soft wings
arching through the bluest sky.
And how she slept was as impenetrable
as lust devoured in need and sanctimonious
want,
delivered by the lascivious.
Soon,
it was as quiet as a fawn
nursing in the respite of Spring,
gleaning milk
from the tit
of tranquility.
Stop forever,
she dreamed the words.
Sleep infinite in the womb of nature
and never awaken.
Let time pass as if it were but a wind
drifting in the soulless scope of permanence,
lifting everlasting.
Hold this,
she thought.
Hold this.
forever
The cosmos reawakened glorious
in seed and sprout,
lush pasturage
spread out across once despoiled land.
And Leh slept resolute
within
the womb of wild;
wrought of life,
solidified and granted of innocence
which not to spoil
in the seed of soul granted to her
in universal love
for but a moment, a flicker of time
that lasted
eternal.
When she awoke
and the seed opened,
she was revealed unto the world
of amity,
of union,
of harmony
which rivers ran deep and clean
and clear,
and forest lay out upon unspoiled land
rich with fruit and foliage,
gleaming in the sun,
as ripe as spirit yet unborn -
where music trickled
through leaves and petals,
growing ever so softly in the misting rain
that cleansed the untarnished.
As she stood,
she saw others like her,
washed of worldliness,
drenched in pure -
like dew untainted,
emerge from seeds like her own.
And their eyes seeped of innocent
astonishment
at the war that was not there.
In the distance
where great cities once stood-
a triumph to human accomplishment-
were now the remains of buildings
devoid of skin,
lathered in vine and flower,
a testament to
what would never
be again.
And the weeping was not of sorrow
but of what would be,
of what would become this new
lifting of humanity.
And they all stood naked
to the passing of clouds
washing against the bluest sky
anyone had ever seen.
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