Welcome to Volume 10 of Quickwords, my poetry series. It’s just one poem today.

| The Druid |
They began service under covenant A pledge official and not, signatories considered blessed, of mutual benefit Spirits of a natural wonder did they bring Spirits of a natural wonder were brought to them Lo, the birds chirped, their warbles frail Songs that struggled to still be sung Lo, the earth breathed life with lungs scarred in the deep Roots could rare dare venture past the topsoil Lest they find the poison buried long beneath The Druid had gazed upon the tender Forest and vowed To see it become even more beautiful To let the roots sink deep and see meadow burgeon with more life She had gazed back at him, long admiring his spirit And wished to share growth with him They had shared smiles and this wish The sun shone happily as roots found home The soil breathed better as rain coursed through The plants danced as the wind came and passed Oh, to be blown away. Might the Druid pause in hindsight and wish to have been whole sooner To have been healed, of that which the Forest healed, long before covenant To have known of the poison that flowed through his veins So that he might have cleansed himself of his own impurity Before he befouled the Forest he had only ever wanted to heal Might the Druid pause in hindsight and hope the good outlasts the bad But shall he know the potency of poison to a Forest that believed herself safe at last Shall he curse himself in the hatred of a cracked mirror And shall he not kneel to the toxin now gone Nor succumb to the necrotic hands that now grip his heart and mind, borne of his fear of truth but incubated by his fear of delusion Shall he not kneel, Shall still beat his heart that pumped poison, but also elixir And shall the Forest flourish within her own grace |
