i wish i knew what the birds sang of
then maybe I could listen to music about more than heartache and the grief that accompanies.
are there any bards left in the world
who could tell me of the tragedies
the otters went through
before they learned to hold hands when sleeping?
so that I may avoid drifting apart from my loved ones, too.
where can I find the proud redwoods
who will tell me what the world was like when they were saplings,
and the lily pads in the ponds, who didn’t have time to worry about trivial things
such as taxes and eternal damnation.
i am so hungry for love, life, knowledge.
does the world today only serve watered down versions of that? or is it only me who feels so starved.
what trade school exists that can teach me the skills I need to know how  
to walk into a room and make it more inviting
to radiate the warmth of several suns
to properly clean and disinfect the baggage of those i love?
because every year the rain comes down harder
and everyone knows how the melancholy grows faster than the mold