Battalions Undaunted.
The saguaros rise
from the khaki sand,
in huge battalions,
like sentinels,
their arms raised
in salute to their masses,
their weapons sharp
and ready to pierce,
their armor spiked
and completely
covering them
from head to toe.
They guard the
blistering badlands,
the wastelands,
the no-man's lands,
where they have
held their positions,
for hundreds of years.
Even the smallest
of their species,
grows only
one inch annually,
and their mightiest are,
fifteen to twenty feet tall,
that's 240 years,
that they've stood
vigil at the same post.
They spent their
early years growing,
when revolution
swept the lands
to their north.
Young Indian braves
practiced their hunting,
using the saguaro
as targets for
their spears.
Western expansion
brought the white men,
who marked their
trails with axes,
cut into the
sides of saguaros,
in the endless quest
for gold, and land.
They wept cactus juice
as many native tribes
were butchered
and banished
to their lands
and eventually destroyed
in the vast wastelands
they were given
Back when brother,
fought against brother,
in a nation divided,
they stood as one.
Then they watched
slaves at long last
only partially freed
and they still were '
standing tall when
the descendants
of freed slaves
managed to get
some partial
civil rights.
The shadows that
the saguaros cast,
resemble devil's pitchforks,
sharply silhouetted
against the blazing sand,
an omen pointing
to the massive evil,
that lurked just
beyond their borders.
The Victorian era,
the Industrial revolution,
came and went,
Iron rails cut swaths
through their
steadfast ranks
roads, and trails
spreading like
fibrous tumours
across the face
of their home.
Through World Wars,
the nuclear era
with missile testing,
and atomic blasts
they have persevered,
right up until t
his present day.
Through the decades
as centuries,
left their telltale marks.
they stood proudly
victorious in the most
inhospitable of places.
yet even now
they still face
the blades of plows,
bulldozers, and
irrigation trenchers,
the tumours spread,
as community developments,
envelope acres of
the places they once ruled.
But forever they will remain,
in those harshest of spots,
undaunted battalions
amidst the canyon walls,
against the rocks
and mesa's,
their numbers
growing inch by inch,
year by year,
reclaiming areas
where no man
dares to venture.
These armies of saguaros,
stand like sentries,
their arms upraised against,
encroachment and defeat.
I have walked amongst them,
and I leave them now,
knowing my generation,
too soon will pass,
my days are numbered,
I have attained my
full requirement,
of inches, year by year.
Long after I am
in the ground,
and my son's son
reaches the golden age,
the saguaros will
stand as a testament,
to natures enduring resilence.
"Hail the victorious saguaros!"
Art~Whimsically Yours Studio
Matthew F. Blowers III-(c)-2016