Sitting atop a high mountain trail Considering the wind and sun Looking down upon the Cascade foothills The patchwork of clearcutting and trees A forest wide checkboard of man’s desire To forever control and capitalize on nature
I wonder of this is the way with man, his nature To blaze the wilderness and cut his own trail Curse over his shoulder at the true god, the sun Think only of commerce when overlooking the foothills While taking the minerals, the animals, and the trees To placate his own insatiable desire
What is it that feeds this desire To conquer and control nature What makes a man think about cutting a trail While working in the midday sun Is it the need to explore the foothills A need to own all of the trees
I look in my yard at the trees I like them, but I feel no desire No overwhelming need to rule nature I walk back down the dog trail They have cut in my yard while playing in the sun Here at the base of the foothills
I am a part of these foothills One with the trees I am filled with a strong desire To recognize my comradery with nature Forging my own, new trail And feeling on my face the warmth of the sun
I sat on the mountain in the summer sun Overlooking the Cascade foothills Near me a hawk sat in a snagged tree Neither of us felt a longing of desire Just the need to be there surrounded by nature I gathered my things and headed down the trail
Is it really man’s nature to be locked in such an unhealthy desire? Do we need to take every tree from the Cascade foothills? In the sun, I thought these things, as I walked the trail…