There really is something magical,
Whimsical even,
About driving through the trees.

A forrest even.
Something wild even though
Humanity has tamed it
Enough to drive through.

We clear the trees
Flatten the land
Pour the concrete
And make sure
There's a destination
At the end.

Everyone wants to rush
Humanity has trained themselves
To go as fast as possible
To get things done.

Yet everyone says
"Its the journey,
Not the destination".

Liars.

They've delusioned themselves
Into not believing what they say.
Hypocrites, I say.
Liars.

This is nature's true beauty.