All Trees Bend

It feels impossible,
To get anywhere.

I have become tar.

Steps forward,
Stumbling back.

Whatever is gained,
More is taken.

This world seems set,
To drain.

Insurmountable odds,
Stacking impossibly high.

That’s nothing new to me,
I’ve never been one,
To go over the wall.

I find my way around,
Which inevitably takes longer,
But the route is more scenic.

It has its perils as well,
There is no safe route.

No matter which way you go,
The only way out,
Is through.

I’ve done my best,
I fight,
I don’t roll over,
I face every day,
Head on.

I’m proud of that,
One who can,
Weather the storm,
For so long.

All trees bend,
There is no unbreakable wood,
No root,
That can’t be torn,
From the earth.

A flood destroys,
But doesn’t it also create?

Life is a matter,
Of points of view,
Savage,
And caring.

I could be a cannibal,
In another life,
Ripping the flesh of my enemy,
Away from broken bone,
In celebration of a hunt.

Or I could be,
A gentle monk,
Living on a mountainside,
A monastery,
A quiet recluse,
That studies solitude,
And the beauty of existence.

They say good and evil,
Are clear,
But how?

I can see transparently,
Through some people,
And others hide,
Their vampiric identities.

Where do we all fit?

The world is system upon system,
Out of control,
A tangled chaos
On the brink of destruction
Or transcendence.

Who will get to go?

My privilege,
Is expressed in the words,
I am able to put down,
On these pages every day.

Right or wrong,
They are momentary feelings,
And observations,
That I cast into,
The oblivion of blank paper,
Scribbled in illegible characters,
The DNA of my thoughts,
Coiled in ink.

I must learn,
That this is all just a process,
There is nothing to solve,
Just the past; to walk away from.

Gather and learn what you can,
To move as gracefully,
As you can.

Temper your emotions,
The world is not coming for you.

The world just is,
And the world,
Is an intestine.

I breathe air,
And the world,
Breathes me.

Everything flowing,
Through each other.

We create systems of consumption,
That mimic nature,
Yet are completely unnatural.

It is our essence that compels us,
We aren’t creative,
We are just mimicking,
The laws of existence.

Cells and microscopic veins,
Pumping life,
Robust cells live and die,
And everything continues.

We all flow together.
If you travel far enough,
We all become the same,
Single dot.