The Circle

The Circle                                 May 26, 2007

 

To live on Earth,

One must consider

The communities

Into which he or she walks.

 

The other

Day,

I embarked upon a

Sojourn

Through a vast Wilderness

Of Shrubberies and poppies

And enjoyed all the intoxicating

Nectar

To be found along such a purportedly

Empty strip of nil.

 

The rain

Then began to fall

Like life-giving

Sperm.

The blades of grass drank

The potion

En route to growing

Big and strong

As their mommies intended.

 

The trees began to dance

With the swing of

Monkeys and other primates

On the vines,

Eating the Bananas and what other foliage,

While the birds and owls did sing.

 

I can smell

The Power and Glory of Nature,

And I could take comfort in knowing

That all was well for

The time being

In my green heaven.

 

Then this morning, 

Hell brought its full Fury.

Fire bombs raged from

The sky

Destroying all the shards of

Grass and the high trees.

Monkeys screamed and fell

Silent and bloodied

As if touched by A fallen angel.

 

Suddenly,

A giant projectile

Unleashed a mushroom of

Sheer death And rendered 

That little oasis of my mind

Into little more than

The precursor of glass.

 

It's funny how one

Action

From within

The sands of time

Can make things so

Crystal clear.