A Forest Trail to Run Away On

 

youtube image

When the news is bad,
and the world seems to have gone mad,
I wish there was a forest trail
I could run away on,
leading to a small wooden cabin
in a peaceful glen,
where there would be no more
news reports, no more hateful rhetoric,
only the song of the wind
rustling through the trees.

In that place, morning would wake me
with birdsong, and a smiling sun
rising behind the mountains.

Deer would amble softly past my window;
small rabbits would dart about,
stopping to nibble grass,
scratching their ears with their furry back feet.

In that place, my soul would open
like a trusting flower,
expanding to meet the vastness of the sky,
a blue bowl overhead bringing nothing
but day after peaceful day
to we creatures of the forest.

In that place, my heart would
begin to heal from the helplessness
of watching human beings stray
so far from the way our ancestors lived
on the living land. I hear their mournful voices
in the wind; raindrops their tears of sorrow
falling to earth.

Meanwhile, the Mad King rules
with complete disassociation from our reality,
sipping from his golden goblet of denial,
living in his own mad world,
while we live in the one his words
have divided and imperiled.

Meanwhile, the sky overhead watches serenely;
the Bigger World continues on its path.
We make our way from one day to another
with a shortage of hope, yet the memory
of a shining dream we once held dear.

Our passports to Tomorrow
our green hearts,
our love for the Mother,
our refusal to watch her die.

for earthweal, where we contemplate having a green heart in a mad world, a state of being I live every hour of every day.