Once upon a time, there was a village near the river
like other
villages, but in this village was a man - taller
than everyone else.
He was jolly and bright, an optimist who
could build huts,
plough fields, catch lots of fish too.
With each passing
day the man grew more confident
as villagers grew more adoring and complacent
forgetting their skills they focused on worship
investing their hopes, their eyes looking up.
So in awe of big
man they planned how and when
their mandate to instruct the village of their duty
laws were established to keep him strong and beefy.
Soon their man got so big he couldn't leave his house
stuck behind his
door, fearful chairmen marched like grouse
up
and down the streets in a solemn search for
answers now that tradesmen were retired, poor
keeping big man in style and manner to which
he'd become accustomed,
his appetite large and rich
too big for
his humble home, he demanded more
– a castle or a mansion, while the villagers bore
the cost with their
labour, health, and their virgin
daughters, crushed
under weight of his lust, his sin
but what could they
do? It was tradition and might
until a child crept with courage to the castle late at night
to speak with the
big man, to plead and to show him
how the village was
so poor, so weary, their lives so grim
her last feint hope
for reason and compassion
and he wept,
overcome with guilt he thanked the maiden
promised to create a
village based on fairness, equality
and when the girl
ran home to tell her kin they were happy
but the chairmen
were outraged and charged that girl
with treason, called
her wicked, wanton and evil
to go above her
station, above their counsel, to enter
the sacred castle of
the big man, so they banished her
offering instead to save the village, to bring them wealth
by invading their
neighbours with arrows, with stealth.
Forgetting their
hunger they painted their faces
thumping their
chests they mounted wild horses
charging the commons,
the forests, the rivers
killing their
innocent neighbourly sleepers
no blood was enough
to fill up this story
no more was the big
man the object of glory
filled with ambition
the warriors planned
campaigns
everywhere, let peace be damned
big man and chairmen
were sacked and replaced
with new gods their
history was censored, erased
forgetting their
skills as fishers and builders
as lovers and
fathers, as farmers and brothers
and so dear reader don't look for an ending
this tale of a village breaking and bending
there is never an
end to the battles and wars
as long as the mind
gets stuck on the scores
of winners and
losers and what is worth saving.
