Feast of the Bicentarians

    by Snipe

These dears, she muses
watching her human friends
scurry about her
This one buffing her toe nails
That one drying her tail off
Those young ones
draping rings of woven flowers
around her sinuous neck
A stable hand
climbs right up her,
nimble little monkey
and applies ocher
to offset her deep eyes

All this fuss,
She is getting impatient
rumbles a low bellow
that overturns chairs
the stable hands get the hint
and open the massive barn doors

She closes her eyes
and breathes The Island in
glancing down to check for fragile humans
She delicately lumbers out

A marching band greets her
She rolls her eyes
and puts on a good face
It seems the entire village has turned out
They do love to celebrate,
She thinks as the crowds parts
to clear her way

She has a bit of a journey
ahead of her
but the weather is good
and she is strong

She is accompanied by most of the town
Singing
Laughing
Running rings of tag
around her massive feet
Always makes her nervous
So small
and fragile

She sighs relief
as Her destination come into view-
The Cronos Pasture

She spies many familiar faces
notices a few new ones
and feels the absence of a few older ones

The followers stop short
of the lush green field
they call out-
"Good Holiday Bronty"
She snakes her neck
around and nods her thanks

She approaches the small gathering ahead-
almost all are Saurians
and of those
most are Sauropods like herself
She recalls a Saurapod saying,
You can do the first hundred years
standing on your head-

It always surprises her to see
a few humans in the crowd
She knows the name of only one-
That old Tibetan of
that older Mountain,
Levka

A gong is struck
the assembled close ranks
as another human speaks,
reading from a scroll
he calls out the names of those
that passed on in the last year-
Levka steps forward to speak
for those who have passed

After a light meal
and some much needed catching up
the group settles down to business-

Discussing recent changes and developments
on The Island
A long life
grants a certain objective perspective-
things that seem vital
to a twenty year old
or a fifty year old
or a hundred year old
are trivial within the larger scope
of someone pushing four hundred

They talk
and listen
and bicker
and laugh
and remember
and look ahead
well into the night-

Torches are lit and another meal shared
the discussions resume
scribes dictate every word and growl
to be copied and distributed
to every town hall
and city council

The words are not to be laws
but suggestions
reminders
insights
into wisdom that only comes with experience
shared freely by those in attendance
on this-

The Feast of the Bicentenarians

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