Scarlet Fox

The white moon acts as a guide

Through my nights in the lush forest –

My home away

From the dystopian society I left behind.

The scarlet fox is my best friend;

Braver, stronger, wiser

And most importantly,

More loyal

Than any corrupt, ‘friendly’ companion

I used to know.

He discloses all his secrets to me,

Telling stories

Of the beautiful wolf he adores,

The turtle who has betrayed him in a deal,

A loquacious owl that never shuts up,

And the hare outrunning him

In each and every race against worldly time.

Each morning,

Our exercise regime

Consists of running alongside the deer,

Over fallen tree barks and beneath split branches –

Accepting our roles as one with Mother Earth.

Thereafter, we take swims in the river

With busy otters migrating upstream.

I am a fusty man of nature,

A real-life, provincial knucklehead.

What would I know

Of society, business,

And all that it takes to make it?

What would I know about anything?

Well, I know the difference

Between fish one may eat,

One may not eat,

And one may find tasty.

I know the plants a man can  trust,

Which animals to follow,

Which ones to avoid.

I am a man of roots in soil.

I am any man I want to be,

Indefinable by spirit.

Me, I’m just a simple but complex human being,

Following God’s blueprint of the creation

He designed in his image.

I am the only man truly living.