from where i sit

from where i sit

upon my rock

in the midst of this stream of life

i can see

on the opposite bank

an illusion of pastoral bliss

cultivated contentment

in the grazing of domestication’s

fattened life of ease

 

but i know the truth

of a branded life

where rolling waves

are sustained

by artificial food,

in a land that has been stripped

naked, save one lone tree

where creatures huddle

for protection

from elements of oppression

and insubstantial roots fail

to absorb the deluge

when the river overflows

 

when man manipulates

to feed

an insatiable hunger for meat

a land that could feed many

only feeds a few

and predators become

the hands that feed

life

reduced

to aloof existence

where blindly, slaughter is awaited

in shelters with padlocks

 

from where i sit

upon my rock

in the midst of this stream of life

i can see on my side of the bank

an illusion of wild dissarray

untamed chaos

in the foraging of creation’s

lean cycle of life

 

but i know the truth

of an unfettered life

where fertile soil

nourishes all

shelters offer comfort

and predators are known

 

from where i sit

upon my rock

in the midst of this stream of life

i can see

 

 

the truth

in the trees

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Trackback: very early healing pieces « Emmaatlast’s Weblog

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