Nature Is An Ask


We wind our humanity across a babbling stream

call it our own of course for we say we belong.

Matters little life of a creature seeming dream

this haven feed silence in their tiny world long.


Scrape away life with corrosive blades of pain

the construct of a vision far beyond that of game.

We will build here, our own safe haven our gain

quiet animals survive might we give sweet name.


We are that primate race intelligence does mask

hiding ourselves in conclaves of brick and mortar.

Would we anyone be less defensive in this an ask

the land we sweep meant to be our general order.


When was it that Man chose simplicity to scrape

this order delight, of a living patterned landscape.

5:30 AM

The morning dawn still veiled in black,

humanity in slow arrival,

a sterile environment,

low murmurs, occasional throat clearing,

expressive faces that suggest

one of two things only,

apprehension or task.

either way, it is apparent

for some not a typical day,

for other’s a certain service project

a life long dedication

to helping the apprehensive.

Listen to the sounds,

rolling wheels, steady footsteps,

occasional bells and maybe an early morning page.

I am here for you today my dear,

I am here to see you through the moment,

whereby we will allow medical science

to adjust your living toward a better freedom.

In Nature

Today we will travel miles

to reach a peace,

a settling of soils enriching Nature’s quiet


We will haul our materials

in a trek inside Her monastery

while there we will think only

of the sounds and sights of the forest.

There is a spectacular symbolism with

asking the environment to allow us to trample

upon its sensitive skin.

I remember laughing one day

when she and I walked inside a famous park,

and came upon Strawberry Fields,

there is a monolith of beauty there

to celebrate Lennon’s impact.

As we stood gazing

a tour group arrived,

and the leader asked everyone to be silent

and say a prayer

as we walked upon Nature’s sensitive skin.

We walked away then,

smiles on our faces,

a bit of cynic analogy to follow.

We had not dreamed of nature

amidst the concrete of New York City.

Yet, one must remember

far below, the soil remains the same

as the visible, elegant walks of Central Park