Some people never look up,
at the stars and the moon,
and the clouds and the sun.
Or hear how the breeze through trees
Sounds just like our vocal chords.
To emanate with such shifts in shade
Radiating refracted light.
And with screens making a spectacle it all looks great.
But what about the world borders beyond?

The atmosphere is full of the most exciting things.
Like sunlight stabbing through grey veiled screens.
Self teaching I’ve found, serenity
In climbing trees.
Watching our wretched world from above.

The trees are telling stories that you can hear out loud
And books don’t compare to paradises I dreamt about.
Traversing expanses, in my mind (alive)
Riddled with questions I can’t begin to comprehend.

I speak out loud to assure myself, that I am not insane
That these words I scrawl (and scream) are starting to make sense.
The woods are full of knowledge, though not the type we typically write and bound.
You have to sit and be patient, accepting the answers they pass along.

And in lake reflections beneath mountains in Maine,
I’ve seen splinters of light and eternal calm.

Now sit down for a moment and allow the cold to cling to your skin.
The apathetic age will thaw like coming spring.
Allowing the conscious cultivated minds of youth
To see sights long lost in the passing of time
And please look up at the goddamn sky!
See the birds and distant bodies inhabiting above
And understand that you are pathetic and small
But love that loneliness
And appreciate the fruits that barren trees in winter bring
I fear to think how happy I am.