I imagine the Cosmos, infinite and remote.
I reflect on our sun, the perfect planetary host.
I consider our world, the pale blue home of the Earthlings,
I think of this forest, and of this path I tread.
Intentionally lost among Appalachian giants,
I wander a chaotic, forkful path.
Willfully losing myself in the grandeur,
I grow hyper-aware of these ancient plants.
Standing in the middle of an empty space,
I am surrounded by five spruce guardians, their branches interlinked.
I wonder what their purpose could be,
And hear the reply from my ancestor’s voices.
These trees provided the ancients with a place to perch
Tens–hundreds–thousands–of generations before me.
A place to develop their growing brains,
And to expand their busy minds.
Perhaps these trees were arranged this way,
A sign of the next step in the Ancient’s evolution.
Once they understood the Father of Light,
And the Seasons, they began to see the pattern.
A new ability was given to them, and therefore to us,
As the passing of the years no longer went unnoticed.
With the knowledge of Mother earths regularities,
They could plan a time for planting and harvest.
The source of the river is an incandescent ball.
Energy flows constantly, carefully harvested here by leaves.
Generations of creatures, divert the flow,
Creating living tributaries with every bite.