DAILY PHOTO: River Runs Through It, Hampi
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Trees talk.
Share sugar.
Stretch skyward.
Grow,
Compete,
Breath,
&
Eat.
Memorize weather.
Flock together.
Host birds of a feather.
Participate in pacts.
Never overreact.
House strangers.
Call out dangers.
Take things slow.
Never over grow.
But there are fields–
endless fields–
of green zombies.
Who cannot talk.
Who do not share.
Whose competitors
&
allies
are executed.
So they can fulfill a purpose
not their own.
Once there was a dog and a man.
The dog chased and the human ran.
The dog got leaner, the man fitter.
But sometimes got bit, and being bit got bitter.
Chased, one day, a bone in hand.
The man devised a clever plan.
Raising the club, he flung it aside.
The dog caught its meal in mid-stride.
From that day on man carried meat.
To offer dog a tasty treat.
Dog, it seems, had trained its master.
No more racing to get faster.
Thirty thousand years then past.
Pavlov trained at dog at last.
Humans are slow, but can learn.
As the world, in due time, turns.
mountain torn in twain
a ridge rended like a child’s
paper crafts project
the shikara slips
through inky predawn waters
a bare bulb aim point
burbling waters
ubiquitous, mountain soul
resonate to it
a glacier-fed lake
mirror clear until fog forms
filling the valley
foal copies its mom
grazing on neat pasture land
it’s never rushed