Large Fierce Mammal

This poem was inspired by two utterances of Wisdom from wellsprings I drink from routinely.

The first is this segment from Maestro Adam Crown‘s exquisite Swordmastery YouTube channel, being a four minute video titled The Law of Conservation of Combat — Bogart’s Fencing Lesson.

The other is a story from the website of the Ronin Katsujinken Kenjutsu and Battojutsu Dojo that I read yesterday courtesy of Master At Arms James Keating’s daily evolving and highly recommended MAAJAK World Ezine. Titled The Principle of the Life Giving Sword, the piece begins with this:

One day, the famous swordsman, Miyamoto Musashi and his student walked on a path passing underneath a large mountain outcrop. On the outcrop, a large boulder ominously loomed over the edge. Musashi’s student expressed concern and fear for passing under the boulder, to which Musashi laughed and said that this is how the swordsman should strive to be. Always exuding a spirit so strong, that a sword never need be drawn.

All that being said, enjoy the poem.

The Fencing Lesson of the Leaning Hemlock
By LFM

This lofty Hemlock straight and tall
Once picked by Nature’s hand to fall,
Reclining now o’erlays the trail,
Held up by straining neighbours hale.

Their trunks hard bent by weight and sway,
Those saviours hold Earth’s call at bay,
And that was how I found them there —
As bow limbs drawn too far to bear.

Yet bear they did without complaint,
No groan nor crack, however faint,
An homage to tenacity,
Proclaimed in stilled veracity.

Though absent sound to prick the ear,
The Fencing lesson, loud and clear,
Revealed itself there in the Wood,
To strike unbidden where I stood.

One never knows, a Master said,
Just where a lesson will be fed,
Nor who will cook and serve the fare,
Upon the student’s humble tare.

With grateful words upon my breath,
And no good need to flirt with death,
My careful feet pursued a path
Around my Teacher’s looming wrath.

And ken thee now the why of this,
‘Tis no mere game of hit and miss,
The blow is certain, understand,
And death to him where it will land.

As Distance so be Timing, ken?
The where is known but not the when!
He moves on sprightly dancing feet
Where blow and target ne’er can meet!

Declined la belle now left behind,
Another Truth suffused my mind —
‘Tis no dishonour not to tarry
Before a blow too strong to parry.

And should Honour not demand
The taking of a final stand,
Speaks he of tested mettle, “Fie!
“”Tis not the hill on which to die!”

Strive ye upon the Swordsman’s way
To be the Hemlock every day,
For those with Strength of Spirit know
Less call to strike the final blow.