A Virtual War in The Sacred Forest

By Larry H. Spruill

In the sacred forest apparitions peak
through sun streaked boughs.
The ever green sanctuary of the
uneasy spirits of those who once were
and still are –
those who mark off their domain
to receive their offerings
from the living of their days of flesh
the faithful ones devoted to
the mysteries of tribe and tradition
following the ways of the ancestors
alive in the elders
in father and son – mother and daughter
dancing under the giant trees
with green scrolled leaves
prescribing the protocols
of blessings and cursed admonishments
to the wary about the unlawful.

The altar is ablazed by hungry ancestors
readily pouring out ancient wisdom
through a dotCOM priest reconciling
Bantu mysticism with techno cyberspace sonnets
blending the ethereal talking drum with
the pounding digital IBM keyboard
pronouncing faith in the
forested temples and the internet cafes
both requiring faithful leaps into
things hoped for with evidence of things not seen.

The forest and cafe promise journeymen
pathways to soulish bliss
warring for the exclusive rights
to the hearts and minds of
the now and tomorrow
both declaring the irrelevance of the other
neither victorious…
neither defeated…
both waving white flags
for now…