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.