The pristine white snow recedes on the fields The dark ploughed soil pushes through The illusion of a blanket protection has melted. Soon the violation will start. Initially - subtly, with little visible impact, minimum disturbance Her outline will be scanned from above Her contours mapped, recorded, remembered - used to plan the next assault. So she lies, outwardly compliant. Then will come some minor physical violence - some bruising here and there - some trampling Still contained, restrained Plundering of her inner being and secrets - by those whose interests in her is purely physical - by those who have no insight into her spirit, her soul. She will stand, quivering Oozing silent tears as this assault takes place. She has no other option. She cannot move cannot run cannot desert this place, which defines her being. She can only hope that some will be sensitive to her anguish to her anticipation of the onslaught to come. She can only hope they will fight for her right to remain -intact -unsullied -able to fulfil her created purpose: to follow her cycles of warming and cooling her rhythms of rest, nurture and production her bountiful giving. If not, the full horror will unfold -stripping of her outer vestments -thrusting deep within her -complete violation -rape. And the visual shock of her exposure will be unavoidable. Her pain will reverberate throughout the surrounding area Finding resonance… in those whose souls are intimately connected with her. And no amount of top dressing of cleaning up tidying up making her pretty again will suffice. She and those who love her will be scarred deep, deep. Never to be the same again. The road will have claimed its first victims. Anonymous |