A Departure

the breeze whistles through the trees

a sacrosanct hymn, natures own tongue

the floor a carpet of crumbling leaves

raw, touched only by the small paws

of untamed animals and occasionally

corrupted by the wanderings of

the worst of us creatures-

three meals a day,

manufactured serotonin,

thoughts and fears that extend beyond

fight or flight, living and dying.

I am one of such creatures

my feet dressed in quilon leather

and I am traipsing through these woods

sullying it for my own sake

the air burns my throat-

with the turning of the leaves, the air has

come into an icy breeze, matured

akin to a child’s break into adolescence

needlessly hostile yet necessary

this woodland, a home.

Oak trees in all of their glory, pillars

the ceiling is astonishingly tall

shades of crimson, muted brown, orange

with gaps of grey spottled throughout

between the sounds myself crushing my way

through the thicket and underbrush

is an undercurrent of words,

cutting through my mind.

Which brings us to why I’m on this frigid,

anti-human walk in the first place

as I’ve seen the landscape change

for these 20 something odd years,

I’ve come to realize

how much I’ve misunderstood

those I left behind in my self indulgent

youth, incapable of understanding

the weight my actions would carry

the consequences blurred by

my yet developed adolescent brain.

For a moment I crouch down and examine

the soil, a variety of shades but composed

mainly of a deep warm brown,

the kind that reminds one of cheap diner coffee.

A sprout, fresh and fragile and waiting

may it be stepped upon?

Trampled by myself or another

carelessly sloshing through the damp soil

yet- it may grow further,

perhaps into a behemoth of wood and branches.

The thoughts again

Lead on paper, calculations I never understood

People walking past me through the halls

With dreams, and problems, and who cares,

and….

And there it is- the root of issue

We grow and grow and grow and grow

But if if our nutrient source has been desecrated,

The fruits we bear-

If any come to fruition, of course-

have already been poisoned.

From the first toddling steps we make

towards our mother, father, dog, bottle

who or whatever it is our infantile senses seek

to our intoxicated adulthood steps

that almost always lead us nowhere at all.

Where there is light, there is darkness-

We know the couple embracing eachother

on the park bench will one day never speak

We see the dog fetching a ball and

see the owners smile and know

the dog will die far sooner than it’s owner

The children with their bags on their shoulders

Running down the sidewalk as the bell rings

Will one day be adults, perhaps cursed

With the knowing that we have as well

Ah

One of the trees is covered in sap,

scent both saccharine and nauseating.

Upon closer inspection, I notice the lines

of ants, moving as one body towards their food-

Sapfeeders, drawn to the substance

innately call the ants to retrieve their excrement

These animal instincts- caused only by

specific stimuli in the brain

One wonders how much of it we have lost,

watching the ants in their orderly fashion

One also wonders what behaviors we’ve

Gained- for better or worse.

Perhaps it’s more similar to a Pavlov’s dogs

training technique, reactions we do not need

But have acquired nonetheless.

We all look up when a phone buzzes.

We’ve been trained to constantly be

In contact, taking photos, ping ping ping

14 year old children have a habit

of offing themselves because of the words

behind those ringtones.

Humans are the only animals who choose to be malicious.

We don’t do it to survive, and thus out of the entire animal kingdom,

no other creature

emotionally, physically, mentally

tortures others for their own satisfaction.

It’s getting foggier now, and the ground

Sinks further and further each step I take.

These legs, damp with the water droplets

that were resting on the greenery,

these lips cracked from the wind

that had been continuously lashing me

like a parent who drinks too much beer

and keeps a Bible at their bedside.

I hear natures siren louder this time-

It feels as though all living things in this

vicinity are yelling with her.

Now, there is no sky.

Only the wildlife, the oak trees, the foliage,

Surround the immoral being that helped defile them.

Ive never been fond of hikes.

I guess the destinations had never appealed to me enough to leave the city.

There is that human condition again-

selfish, callous, and only able to appreciate things when things are about to end.

A sturdy branch- the bark is coarse, and splinters me.

As I teeter-totter clumsily on my stool, I tie the rope until I am sure it won’t be undone.

I hear the flittering of insects, surely on their own

pheromone induced flight patterns, thinking of

Nothing or everything.

O- I’m reminded of something.

I’m sure most mammals don’t eat electronics, or backpacks.

That is my final sin.

Now- for my closing lines.

Firstly, I don’t care about nature.

I never went out of my way to enjoy it,

nor was I ever the kind of person to enjoy camping, or picnics.

Secondly, I don’t care about humans.

Humans don’t care about me.

They pray, they lie, they write poetry

They fuck for fun, and frankly, they think too much.

I fit my head through the noose, and glance up

A ray of sun is making its way through the foliage.

Goodbye, misery. Goodbye, wonder.

And with that, i kick the stool from under me

and my audience whistles their secret lullaby.