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Nature v. Man
In nature [not men]
there is peace
comfort
age-old wisdom yet to be contradicted
In the skies [not war]
power to replenish [and destroy]
passion to feed [and starve]
Searching for in men that which I’ve always found in nature:
Little more than a sense of comfort, an air of peace, and an endearingly predictable metamorphosis that, while routine and necessary, never ceases to be beautiful in its rebirth.
The moment when the sun frees itself from the confines of the clouds, valiantly bursting through with a tender ferocity as if to say to all the milk’s way, “I am here, I am home, and I am yours;” – oh and the flutter of my heart at each day’s beginning for I know that whatever the meat of the day, this day too shall close with the magnificent song of sunshine painting its melodies across the sky for all those with soul’s custody of mind. My heart, how it shines! Each time my eyes take a drink of this holy grenadine I do best to let my jaw hang as it will, for the sweetness of the sky could ruin the sanctity of all else things to be savored.
The oaks stand tall and their nakedness reveals the contortion of their branches; there is a beauty in this life’s response to pain – only the strongest stand tall against the power of a storm. Mighty have fallen before and mightier there are still to fall, but where there are roots - there is life and where there is life - there is art, and where there is art - there is beauty, and where there is beauty - there also resides humility, strength, and dignity.
The rivers, for all their meandering, are truly a mystical force to be reckoned with. Constantly changing and being changed by its surroundings, it adapts its course with little regard for much apart from making it as far as it can towards its final destination. Though seemingly small and insignificant, a river can leave even the mightiest of mountains permanently changed by little more than its presence – talk about power.
Oh, nature… cannot you make man in thine image?
