Shirley Werchota

Stripped of Virtue

What do you see when you go for a walk in the park?
I will tell you what I see and what Ive seen since the beginning of time. Walking in a park used to keep one busy for days, nay weeks at a time. The trees, taller than the halls of men, stronger than the pillars built by thousands of our brothers over decades, used to stand with such pride that would contaminate those visiting them.
Their leafs the colour of a million green rainbows, the size of umbrellas, soft as velvet or Indian Kashmir, sheltering orphaned scarabs as diverse as the race of mankind itself and glittering in the sunlight as if clusters of emeralds were reflecting golden rays of light magnifying and purifying all the different colours of the rainbow as if through a green prism.
The thick bark of these wonderful and mighty creatures, all imaginable shades of brown, from the deepest to the lightest, from the darkest to the brightest, all lined with silver thread so delicate one would not want to touch.
These eyelashes of nature, so imposing yet delicate and gracious, as detailed and defined as the hand of my old grandmother. Wisely protecting all that seek refuge, without judgment, letting through their delicate feathers and down their comforting amber bodies only the purest drops of water, carefully filtering only he warm, bright and soft rays of divine light allowing only the gentlest and freshest breeze to tickle the top of their healing roots.
A park was, long ago in lives of the ancient men, the perfect balance of nature and organisation, of chaos and order and of compassion and unconditional love. Now my sisters and brothers, now nature has been stripped of its virtue. How that came to pass is a tale too long to tell and not mine to introduce you to. I do not judge yet simply wish to point out facts of and unwanted, unnecessary change. What used to be a spring of healing, peace, joy and fulfilment is now nothing more than an unfortunate disfigured representation of a place to throw our sins and embarrassments.
A walk in a park, in this troubled age is a short, unsatisfying experience that surely fills ones heart with longing, emptiness and worse sadness. Longing for the walks in Eden that we have all had a chance to enjoy and that we all remember in a deep clustered space in our souls. The emptiness of knowing why we long but not having the courage to choose joy, peace, healing and fulfilment once again. Now such ballades are dreaded because no individual will or even wished to acknowledge their responsibility in destroying our home, destroying nature. Consequently and understandably we prefer not to walk, in order to spare ourselves a guilt trip, which would be just an other justified voyage.
Once again fellow souls, I do not criticise as I find myself in your group yet I know I am doing m part to allow out shelter givers and life savers to regain their pride. Were each of you in their place, would you want to remain, naked, stripped of all virtue?


All rights belong to its author. It was published on by demand of Shirley Werchota.
Published on on 05/01/2004.


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