The long winding road

Ask the dark underbelly of Nature’s golden sun

What lies in wait,

Patient of linear time to intersect with

One of its sisters, the spiraling upward movement

Of dimensional ‘now’ moments.

The plants continue to watch, balanced.

.

She will not answer, you see; it is a mystery

Even to her, Nature, who was old when this

Subuniverse emerged, spat out with the

Instantaneous colors to paint reality,

Leftovers from a system torn with war and want.

And so we started over again,

With the gentle things of the land.

.

A most curious thing, this underbrush of

Fine-looking forest.

The crowns, canopies, and fruits

Sing the same song, with their own melodies,

Feeding each other, inventing flowers,

And recording the story of interconnected

Unity.

.

And yet…

.

The seed of corruption,

The antithesis of evolution

Crawls at the roots,

Gnawing at colonies of

Micellar interconnection,

Leaching nutrients for an unplanned

Agenda — yet, divinely orchestrated.