Nature's Tirade
A word to the masses:
I am not insane.
Others may not see what I am able to see
When I come across the mundane
I look past what is really there
Into the essence of reality and the wonders of life
That rose is not a rose
But a sparkling beacon of light
Amidst a dark and forlorn background
Of uprooted lives and crushed dreams
That characterize the recumbent trees that fall by our hands
The dew drops gracing each petal
With a mercy unknown to man, but a beauty
That nature claims all its own
Lost to the desires of avarice and greed
That leaf is not a leaf
But a part of some greater thing
That supplies it with all it will ever need
For the leaf in itself is a small fragile object
Incapable of surviving on its own
When winter comes, it trembles in fear
And submits to the will of its mother
That tree is not a tree
But a brave guardian of the truth
That the balances must be restored to ensure that all will survive
Not just the single race
Ensnared by its own drive to control all that is there
For too long has it accustomed itself to hedonistic desire
And the subjugation of other beings
While hiding amidst the façade of ensuring justice
What is this true justice
When all the deer and saxifrage are gone
And the earth is all but a swirling brown cloud of dust
From which no more life can emerge from?
What is this true justice
When all that had created were destroyed by that same creation
The creation incapable of looking beyond itself
To the better good?
When we can no longer see what is truly there
Is when the goal of human race is achieved
For we have gained all the experience there is to be gained
And no longer have to observe the world in its raw form
No longer confused by the mysteries of the universe
No longer frustrated by those terrible mundane things
No longer burdened by the trial of understanding what is there
And how we can see it in a better way
No longer do we have to actually see
And when we can no longer see
The world is truly lost
For who or what is to stop us from destroying ourselves?