The Earth cried that day
the day her mother fell to slumber
ne'er again to wake
one resounding crash, boughs intertwined in perfect array
her colors fading, losing their deep hues of umber
the world over shuddered with such a quake
for the fairies had forgotten their way

*Dance for the trees and not the tithes
thus fell our Mother
The Tree of Life

When thoughts give rise to instinct
instinct to have all the pretty things and shiny gold
food, shelter, love
organic matter is all we are
higher brain function makes us more than a squirrel?
I think not
you see, that same squirrel
dead in the road
where is his heaven
has he not contributed to the circle of life
these thoughts have my mind decomposing
despite oxygen, despite synapses firing
in the end we all just feed the Earth
intelligent life, I think does not equate more than this gift