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…