“The Elephant Tree”
There was always a decision to be made
At the hallowed ground of the Elephant Tree.
Forwards
Or Backwards?
To rest or charge forth?
The choice was always given to my brother and me
By our father
There in front of the Elephant Tree.
My brother, ever larger
Ever stronger,
Preferred the prior.
He wanted to see the peak, the pond, and the fire tower.
The Elephant Tree was there for us to catch our breath
For the final leg our unfinished quest.
I,
The smaller and weaker of the two,
More often took time to think the choices through.
To me, at that age,
The Elephant Tree was the perfect place to turn back.
Its trunk-like branch
And its leg-like roots
Were a marker that, maybe,
I’d had enough.
If I’d seen a snake or frog
Then what need had I to go further?
I’d tire, I’d burnout,
And be unable to enjoy what else there was to see
Beyond the hallowed ground of the Elephant Tree.
Our forest guide would watch the back and forth
And refused to offer its opinion.
Sometimes, it would watch us turn back.
But as the years went by it would see us move on,
The question growing shorter as our hikes grew longer,
Until we stopped asking it
And moved beyond the hallowed ground of the Elephant Tree.
We’d give our former guide a nod of recognition for its place and former purpose.
But no longer stop to rest before it.
Now a stump is all that stands
On the hallowed ground of the Elephant Tree
And it was not until I was a few steps past it
That I recalled how proud I used to be
To have made it this far.
