The Tear of the Totem

The squirrel dwelled suffering amid the rotting stump for months

Stomach empty he searched fastidiously beneath towering trunks

Blear-eyed and beaten he searched for a new abode days without sleep

Until one misty morning, when the morning mud melted moist and deep

Slowly through sparkling dew-covered grass he carefully did creep

The squirrel came finally to a glimmering grassy clearing,

When suddenly up in the sky flashed haunting eyes so jeering

He stopped and gazed upwards amazed at the resplendence

A totem pole stood, old and rain-stained with time and independence.

Atop the totem, peering over tall trees, sat an Eagle of power and vigor

Glowering with a sneering smile, growing bigger and bigger

With a broad unbreakable beak, overshadowing a grinning face

 The squirrel could see, on the ancient emblem so delicately ornate

A sodden home, beneath the beak, with peace, patiently waits.

 

 

So carefully he climbed the totem, damp, stained and curved

And melted mindlessly into a sound sleep he undoubtedly deserved

As the sun sank beneath the black looming pines

The clouds began to roll in, and the winds began to whine

A merciless shiver enveloped the squirrel like a thousand small spiders

He crouched deeper beneath the beak as the storm's velocity grew wider

Surrounding him was wildly flying branches and chaotic debris

As Trees fell with loud cracks before their birds could flee

The forest was in chaos, illuminated by lightning's crack

But he was huddling in his shelter, only able to see black

He feared for his life, but the next morning he did wake

To a cherry blossom sunrise over a lovely lapping lake

He was sure on this magnificent morning that this would be his home.

He wished to eternally be protected by the proud eagle standing alone.

 

 

The squirrel happily thrived beneath the beak stretching vast for years

Everyday he would awaken, onto a landscape, his gaze he would cast

Then wistfully hop down, on heads holding smiles so sneering

Frolic through the trees, he'd play and gather nuts without fearing

For he knew the eagle's deviant eyes would protect him from bloodthirsty beasts

He would calmly sit happily, with his grand guardian, enjoying his feasts.

Eventually he met friends to share with him this blessed heavenly home

He started a family, and safely they lived under the beak's high dome

It was like a never-ending fairytale, in their enchanted forest of mystery

But all fairytales have endings, and this one remains an unhappy history

Eventually their wistful ways would come too soon to an end

But not before the eagle could protect them briefly once again.

 

 

 

 

One afternoon over the treetops, hollow echoing, they heard

Loud noises, falling trees, and frantic flocking birds

With fear in their hearts, their sanctuary in danger,

Up the totem they scurried, for protection from the stranger

Out of the shadowy evergreens stormed a group of dirt covered men

Followed by monstrous machines, the forest they planned to condemn

But stopped in their path, when their gaze fell upon the eminent totem pole

The patronizing eyes of the mighty eagle was much to vehement to behold

Their ruthless axes fell to the ground, bruising the pure earth's delicate floor

Solemnly they guided their hollow gaze away, they could bear it no more 

Destroy the piercing glare of the ancient lonely eagle they could not

Crying pine trees swallowed them again, as they turned back distraught

The squirrels were saved from the unstoppable edge of man's axe

But salvation from starvation was impossible as each tree did collapse

One morning they awoke to a pine tree graveyard, without life to be found

They were forced to abandoned the noble totem, to where food was abound.

 

 

So once again the mold enveloped bird of Jove stood empty and alone

The men returned to pay respects, but the eagle's eyes were cold as stone

Their plan was to clean it, perhaps touch up the rough edges with paint

But when they lay their hands upon the fragile wood, it proved quite faint

It cracked and broke, for it could not bear the touch of their cruel hands

It was robbed of its strength, glory, and nature enriched, pine tree plenty land

The crumbling of the totem left a sick burden on the men it seemed

They never spoke of the eagle again, but its eyes of despair haunted their dreams

For when they looked down upon the crushed eagle's head, gazing up to the sky

For as if it wept, they saw a glassy tear rolling down its once jeering eye,

It cried out in pain for all nature lost, all fallen totems, all creatures, all costs

For one last time, the fallen eagle painfully peered into the gray clouding sky

And one last tear rolled out from its lonely hollow eye.

 

 

 

 

Jill Danielle Lawler