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The King, The Inferno.
A poem and an announcement
What happened to the village?
The shell of a house,
A life long gone
Only the apple trees live on.
Hollows of what was and could not be.
The land echoes a thousand voices,
Richness of times passed shattered with the glass.
To what have these carcases of memories ceded their lives well lived?
That which powers mechanical beasts to cut the forest, lurk silently.
No sadness here, only efficiency and power.
And once the forest has been uprooted, the ancestors of the abandoned farmstead ride upon the machinery which surround it with a green desert of wheat, each plant a copy of the other, a mini forest of the living dead.
Dust rises, birdsong retreats and we wonder what we found in our leisure that we no longer have to tend to the horse, cow, goat, chickens and the making of our shelter.
The time to rely on what grows from beneath our feet has ended.
The king who lost our roots, we ride upon our combustion powered chariot into our own inferno.
— Rupert Dunn
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This poem was written by my dear friend, Rupert. I wanted to share this with you all for two reasons.
The first, it is brilliant. A fine, welcome introspection into the soul of things these days.
The second, Rupert will be the co-host of the DENUSION Podcast for Season 4! Like previous seasons, the framework will be a network of conversations between Rupert and I around rewilding, relational conservationism, peasant bakeries, local systems, ancient and free grains, and more!
DENUSION Season 4 with Rupert will be released early December :D Stay tuned.